


Drarry Drabbles

by parkkate



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble Collection, Drabbles, M/M, headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2018-11-21 00:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 28,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkkate/pseuds/parkkate
Summary: This is a collection of drabbles & headcanons I posted ontumblr:)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Clumsy

 

“Potter, you dropped your quill.”

Draco held it out to him, scrutinising him intently.

This was the third time something like this had happened today. Potter had dropped his books earlier while walking into Charms. After that, his whole bag had slipped off his shoulder as Draco had passed him on his way out of the Great Hall. And now the quill.

Draco frowned as Potter took it sheepishly and mumbled, “Thanks,” before walking away.

What was going on with Potter? He wasn’t usually this clumsy. Apparently, Draco had said that out loud, because Pansy snickered at him.

“Oh, he’s not. He’s actually only dropping things when you’re around.”

“What?” Draco snapped.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that, too,” Blaise smirked.

Draco shook his head. His friends were mad!

Or were they?

Draco had to question himself, which he normally never did, the next day, when he sat in Transfiguration. When he looked up, his gaze automatically wandered over to where the Gryffindor’s sat, catching green eyes staring at him. Potter turned away quickly, knocking over his ink bottle with his elbow.

When class was over, Draco watched Potter closely as he walked behind him to exit the classroom. Potter suddenly jerked, his legs bending weirdly. When Draco saw Potter was about to collapse, he sprinted forward and caught him around his waist.

Draco thought they must look ridiculous, staring at each other, Potter practically lying in his arms.

“Th- thanks,” the Gryffindor muttered, sounding breathless.

“What is going on with you, Potter?”

Draco huffed as the other boy’s mouth clamped shut and he averted his eyes.

“Can you stand on your own now?”

Draco experimentally loosened his grip on Potter’s waist, only to find that Potter really couldn’t stand on his own.

“Great,” he grumbled, “now I’ll have to _carry_ you to Madam Pomfrey.”

Neither of them commented on the fact that Draco could have simply levitated him to the Hospital Wing. Instead, Potter’s fingers were curled around Draco’s neck and Draco felt his whole body heat up.

As they vanished behind a corner, Pansy and Blaise burst out laughing.

“See?” Pansy snickered, “I told you, letting Potter overhear how much Draco fancies him would work.”

“Yeah,” Blaise grinned. “Oh and good thinking on the Jelly-Legs Jinx,” he added, bumping Pansy’s hip with his own.

Snickering, they made their way to the Slytherin common room, planning to wait for Draco and getting him to spill every juicy detail about his little rendezvous with Potter in the Hospital Wing.


	2. Chapter 2

Flat-hunting

 

Imagine what an utter pain in the arse Draco would be while flat-hunting. He complains about everything, scrunches up his nose and yells at the estate agent. Harry gets so uncomfortable every time it happens. He’s beginning to think they’ll never find a new flat. But he should have known Draco would have high expectations. He grew up in a manor for Merlin’s sake. One evening, Harry overhears Draco on the phone with their estate agent and his eyes widen, when he hears Draco say,

“No, you imbecile, we won’t reconsider the second one. My husband only deserves the best and you won’t stop looking until you find something that will make me absolutely certain he has everything he ever dreamed of!”

That night, Harry pays extra attention to Draco’s body while they’re making love.

“Maybe we could take a look at the last flat again? It didn’t seem so bad,” Harry moans while sucking on Draco’s neck feverishly. Draco makes a strangled noise and Harry isn’t sure if it is in response to his question, or to him sucking Draco’s neck. That is, until he hears Draco mutter,

“You can’t possibly expect our child to grow up in a place like that.”

Harry momentarily freezes. He never thought Draco would want to have children with him. But the mental picture that suddenly enters his mind is beyond beautiful.

So now, every time Draco snaps at the estate agent, Harry grabs his husband and kisses him deeply, wondering how in Merlin’s name he got so lucky.


	3. Chapter 3

Sixth Year AU

 

In which Draco keeps disappearing into the Room of Requirement, but not to fix that dumb Vanishing Cabinet. So what is he doing in there? That’s what Harry would like to know! 

He watches Draco, day after day, making his way to the Room of Requirement, carrying a bag. It drives Harry mad. He knows he can’t get in there, while Draco is in the room, so he waits after Draco has slipped out again. Harry stares at the wall and concentrates hard. 

“Show me the room you become when Draco Malfoy goes in there.”

At first, he doesn’t think it’s working. But then, a door appears, and Harry’s heart beats faster. He yanks the door open impatiently and steps into… the Room of Hidden Things. Is Malfoy hiding something in here? Harry spends hours walking around, trying to find something that would look suspicious, until he finally gives up. He heads for the door again, when something catches his eye - his own name. It’s an article from the Daily Prophet, that’s peeking out from a big trunk.

Frowning, Harry opens the trunk. There’s not only one article in there, more like a hundred. There’s also lots of pictures of him, a stuffed teddy bear that has a lightning scar stitched on its forehead, some old quills and… is that a Remembrall? And is that a Gryffindor scarf? Harry remembers, he lost a scarf in fourth year, but… that can’t possibly be this scarf, can it? Except… there’s an old shirt Harry has been looking for for ages.

Heart pounding, Harry hurries out of the Room of Requirement. He has no idea what to make of this. He knows some people are obsessed with him, but this? This is a bit much! And he still hasn’t figured out what Malfoy is doing in there!

A few days later, Harry gets his answer. He’s under his invisibility cloak again, following Malfoy and Zabini. They’re chatting about something Pansy did yesterday. Apparently, it was rather scandalous. Harry’s heart stops, when Zabini suddenly says,

“So, you finally got rid of all your wanking material?”

Malfoy rolls his eyes.

“Shut up, Blaise.”

“Does this mean you’re finally done talking about him?”

Malfoy elbows him and Zabini snickers.

“One more thing, then everything will be locked away and gone for good,” Malfoy mutters and tells Zabini to go to the Great Hall without him.

Harry’s mind reels as he finally realises it’s Malfoy’s collection he discovered in the Room of Requirement. But why is he getting rid of it?

Harry’s brows knit together at his own thoughts. He has been worrying for days about the person who that collection belongs to. But now that he knows it’s Malfoy… it doesn’t feel that weird and creepy anymore. The only thing that concerns him, is why Malfoy is dumping this stuff in the Room of Hidden things.

Not thinking about consequences, Harry runs after Malfoy, pulls off his invisibility cloak and grabs his wrist. Malfoy startles and turns around. Gasping, he lets go of his bag, the contents spilling all over the floor. Harry can’t believe his eyes when his gaze falls upon several drawings. Of him.

“You drew me,” Harry says flatly. Malfoy doesn’t say anything. His wrist twitches in Harry’s grip.

“Why are you getting rid of it?” Harry murmurs, his eyes locking with Malfoy’s.

“What do you care?” Malfoy counters.

Harry thinks about it for a moment. Yes, why does he care? He can’t really find an answer and he doesn’t exactly understand it, he just… does.

“The Remembrall in there, it’s not… I mean… is it-”

“The one Longbottom thought he lost in first year?” Malfoy finishes for him.

Harry nods.

Draco lets out a sigh and closes his eyes.

“Yes, it is.”

Harry is pretty sure he should feel creeped out and weird again, but he feels excited instead.

“Why did you keep it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Malfoy mutters.

Harry steps closer to him and puts a finger under his chin. Malfoy gasps at the touch and blinks. Harry is overwhelmed by his own boldness, but it’s like his body is acting on its own.

“Tell me why you’re getting rid of all this stuff,” he whispers. Malfoy shudders and his eyes flick to Harry’s lips. His breathing is heavy and Harry faintly feels his pulse racing, as he moves his finger down Malfoy’s neck.

“What do you care?” Malfoy repeats. His gaze is still fixed on Harry’s lips, which sends weird little jolts down Harry’s chest.

“I don’t know,” Harry breathes. “I just… don’t want you to.”

Without warning, Malfoy closes the gap between them, his lips brushing over Harry’s. A shiver runs down Harry’s spine and his gut clenches. When he feels Malfoy’s arms circle his waist, he throws his own arms around Malfoy’s neck.

Harry doesn’t know how long they’re standing there and who starts making these obscene noises first. He is, however, rather irritated when they get interrupted by a loud groan.

“Potter,” somebody whines. Harry blinks and sees Zabini standing a few feet away from them. “I thought this whole thing would finally be over! Why did you have to go and snog him? Now he will never shut up about you!”

Malfoy blushes furiously as Harry’s booming laughter echoes off the walls.

“You know,” he says with a little smirk, “I think I’m rather good at shutting him up.” He winks at Zabini, before gripping onto Malfoy more tightly and giving him the snog of his life.


	4. Chapter 4

Flowers

 

Whenever Draco has a bad day, Harry buys him flowers.  

The first time it happens, Draco comes home from work with a scowl on his face. He just got some really bad news and knows the next few weeks will be hell for him. When Harry asks about his day, he doesn’t say anything. He knows, if he opens his mouth now, he will only snap at Harry and he really isn’t in the mood to fight. Not after the day he had. So he sits there, throughout their dinner, saying nothing.

When he gets up to take a shower, he catches Harry gazing at him sadly. Draco knows Harry is only worried about him, but this gets him even more irritated. Because now, on top of his bad mood, he feels guilty for making Harry feel this way.

Taking a shower normally relaxes him, but when he walks into his and Harry’s bedroom, his muscles are still tense and the scowl still won’t leave his face. The crease between his brows deepens even more when he sees something odd on his bedside table. That bouquet of peonies wasn’t there before. When he hears Harry enter the bedroom, Draco doesn’t turn around.

“Do I look like a girl, Potter?” he grumbles through gritted teeth. Why would Harry get him flowers? Harry doesn’t reply. Instead, Draco feels his arms wrap around his waist from behind. When Harry starts nuzzling his hair, Draco sighs and puts one of his hands on Harry’s.

Harry is only trying to cheer him up. And although Draco would never admit it out loud, getting flowers from his boyfriend is… kind of nice.

From this day on, whenever Draco comes home grumpy or moody, Harry will excuse himself quickly and return with a bouquet of sunflowers, or daisies, or hydrangeas… sometimes Draco doesn’t even know the name of the flowers Harry gets him. The only thing he knows is, it warms his heart when Harry is standing in front of him, smiling almost shyly, with a big bouquet in his arms.

So now, Draco isn’t that irritated anymore, when he had a bad day at work. He’s still moody and grumpy, he can’t control that, but he also knows that Harry will buy him flowers. And while they’re beautiful and Draco always admires and appreciates them for as long as they’re on his bedside table, it’s about so much more than just the flowers. 

It reminds Draco of how thoughtful Harry is. It’s a sweet little gesture that reassures Draco. 

Harry will always be there to cheer him up. 

To make him feel loved.


	5. Chapter 5

More Flowers

 

Today was another long and hard day. Draco isn’t exactly in a bad mood, but it could be better. When he steps into the living room, he knits his brows together on purpose, though. This is another thing Draco would never admit out loud, but this isn’t the first time he acts a little more grumpy than he actually is, to get more flowers. Merlin, is Draco Malfoy turning soft?

When Harry simply announces that dinner is ready, Draco frowns at him for real. When Harry doesn’t jump up right after dinner either, Draco glowers at him.

“Where are my flowers, Potter? You’re slacking!”

Harry snickers at that and leans back in his chair.

“Don’t get your wand in a knot. They’re already in the bedroom,” he winks.

“What?” Draco says, wide-eyed. Harry beams at him, obviously anticipating this reaction. He probably saw through Draco all those times he practically begged for flowers, with his little charade, as well.

Today, Draco doesn’t care. He heads straight into the bedroom, wondering what kind of flowers Harry got him this time. But the sight before him, when he enters the bedroom, isn’t at all what he expected. There’s no bouquet on his bedside table, but a sea of rose petals, all over the floor, on the bed… Draco doesn’t know what to say… except…

“Merlin, what were you thinking, making such a mess?”

“Oh come on, Draco! It’s romantic,” Harry says, although he does sound a little unsure. Draco snorts, to which Harry just snickers again.

“You are such a sap,” Draco mutters, a smile tugging on his lips.

“Only for you,” Harry murmurs back as he pulls Draco in an embrace and buries his face in the crook of his neck.

Draco can’t help but roll his eyes while he wraps his arms around Harry as well.

“You’re an idiot,” he mumbles into Harry’s hair.

“A lovable idiot?”

Draco barks out a laugh and pulls Harry closer.

“Unfortunately, yes. I don’t think I would be able to ever stay away from you again, even if I tried.”

“Then don’t,” Harry says, lifting his head and staring into Draco’s eyes.

“I’m not planning to,” Draco replies, wondering about the strange tone in Harry’s voice.

“Then marry m-”

Draco slaps his hand over Harry’s mouth before he can finish.

“Oh no, you don’t! What are you doing? Wait, is that what the rose petals are all about? You must be joking!”

“I’m not,” Harry mumbles against Draco’s hand.

“Ugh!” Draco withdraws his hand and steps away from Harry.

“So… you don’t want to?” 

Draco can hear Harry’s disappointment loud and clear.

“You really thought being cheesy was the way to go here?” Draco asks, gesturing around the room.  

“Well…” Harry knots his hands together and bites his lip. He bows his head, clearly not wanting Draco to see _how_ disappointed he is.

Draco rolls his eyes at his boyfriend. As much as he dislikes cheesy gestures like this, he can’t help but notice his heart is beating a lot faster all of a sudden, which makes him smile. Damn Harry and his sweet gestures. 

“Harry?” 

“Yeah?”

“You better be getting me flowers as my husband as well!”


	6. Chapter 6

The telltale Marauder's Map

 

 

Imagine Harry dragging the Marauder’s Map everywhere with him, just so he can keep an eye on Malfoy at all times. (Yeah okay, you don’t really have to imagine this part, because it happened.) Ron and Hermione are so fed up with him, because Harry is so absorbed in his map, they can’t even have a normal conversation with him.

The only time Harry isn’t staring at the map, is when his eyes are fixed on the actual Malfoy, walking past him. Hermione jumps at the chance and grabs the map. She’s not planning on hiding it or anything. She knows all too well she would never get away with it. Harry would probably even threaten to hex her if she didn’t give it back. She instead doodles something on it and grins, when the little heart she made around Malfoy’s dot sticks and moves along with it.

As soon as Malfoy is out of sight, Harry’s gaze wanders back to the map.

“Guys, I really think he’s up to- What is that?” Harry exclaims. Ron looks over his shoulder and snickers.

“Well, I think Hermione nailed it, mate.”

After that, Harry blushes every time he looks at the map. He’s so flustered, he doesn’t even realize the heart-framed dot is approaching him rapidly, even though he’s staring at it.

“What is it with you lately, Potter?” Malfoy drawls, startling Harry. He’s standing right in front of him and Harry is so surprised, he’s too slow to react when Malfoy grabs the Marauder’s Map out of his fingers. “Are you turning into a bookworm? Wherever you go, your nose is always buried in… some… parchment…”

Malfoy frowns as he looks at the map.

“What is this?”

Harry doesn’t answer. He’s beginning to sweat and his heart is beating rapidly.

“Give it back, Malfoy,” he grumbles and snatches it from him.

But judging from Malfoy’s incredulous look, he already saw… _it_. Bloody hell! Why did Hermione have to do that?

“Dear Merlin, what are you, Potter, five?” Malfoy sneers. But it hasn’t escaped Harry that his cheeks have turned pink and his voice is a bit shaky.

“Would you rather I kissed your dot goodnight before I go to sleep?” Harry counters. But… wait…

Malfoy opens his mouth, but doesn’t say anything. He just stares at Harry.

“Wow, um… I really don’t know why I said that,” Harry murmurs sheepishly.

“Do you do that?” Malfoy asks in a high-pitched voice.

“No?” Harry doesn’t know why his answer sounds like a question, because it’s the truth. He has never done that, nor would he ever do it.

Okay, so he stared at the heart-framed dot, wondering if Hermione might actually be on to something. Maybe he even imagined what Malfoy’s hair would feel like if he ran his hands through it, what Malfoy would do if Harry pushed him against a wall, what his lips would feel like on Harry’s, what sounds he would make while Harry sucked on his neck…

They stare at each other some more until a sound at the end of the corridor startles them. Malfoy looks over his shoulder and when his eyes land on Harry again, his expression is determined. He grabs Harry’s arm and drags him into the next broom closet.

 

Bonus:

 

_“Mr. Prongs would like to congratulate Harry Potter on being thoroughly snogged in the broom closet. {That’s my boy!}_

_Mr. Padfoot agrees with Mr. Prongs, although he would like to add that he finds it a little strange that Baby Prongs just got snogged by his relative. {Isn’t that incest or something?}_

_Mr. Moony would like to point out to Mr. Padfoot that Draco Malfoy, while being distantly related to Mr. Padfoot, is in fact not related to Harry Potter._

_Mr. Padfoot rolls his eyes at Mr. Moony and would like to emphasize that he still can’t believe Baby Prongs would go for a Malfoy._

_Mr. Prongs can’t believe Mr. Padfoot is showing such prejudice when Baby Prongs is clearly smitten with his little Dragon._

_Mr. Moony agrees, but would like to advise Baby Prongs to maybe use a silencing charm next time._

_Mr. Prongs would like to advise Mr. Moony to take his own advice next time he’s getting cozy with Mr. Padfoot._

_Mr. Moony would like to be excluded from this narrative._

_Mr. Padfoot snickers at Mr. Prongs and presents his compliments to Baby Prongs for scoring that ‘hot piece of arse’. {How is that for prejudice?}_

_Mr. Moony would like to remind Mr. Padfoot to watch his language._

_Mr. Padfoot rolls his eyes at Mr. Moony. Again._

 

Harry didn’t know he could blush this hard, not after nearly being shagged by Malfoy in said broom closet. That is, until he realizes, Malfoy is standing behind him and just read every - single - word.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Roommates AU

 

In which Draco sits on the couch and Harry walks past him and Draco’s head snaps up, because he *knows* that scent. And Draco gets so P I S S E D because, _“Potter! Do you have any idea how expensive that shampoo is! It’s custom-made! And here you are, wasting it on that untamable mop of yours!”_ Also, there’s this other minor detail. Of course, Draco couldn’t care less about it, but… now Potter doesn’t smell like Potter anymore and… wait, did he just say that out loud? Well _shit_! 

After that, Draco gets flustered on a daily basis.

_“Potter, why are you standing so close to me? We’re doing the dishes, there’s no need for your arm to touch mine.”_

_“Potter, if you want to read the paper, wait your turn, don’t read it over my shoulder.”_

_“Potter, stay on your side of the couch!”_

Of course, Harry doesn’t. And eventually, Draco stops complaining. Well, he doesn’t exactly _stop_ complaining…

_“Potter, my skin is all chafed because of your stubble.”_

_“Potter, do it harder for Merlin’s sake!”_

_“Potter, what is it with you and cuddling?”  
_

_“Potter, where are you going? Take me with you?”_

~~And they lived happily ever after.~~


	8. Chapter 8

You can hear it in the silence

 

_Sometime in 8th year…_

Harry isn’t exactly sure what to think at first.

There are glances across the room. Like nothing has changed. Like everything has changed.

It feels familiar and yet… new.

It confuses him.

It’s not like the hate is suddenly gone. Harry still feels it whenever he looks at him. But it’s different now.

He can’t really describe it. He has tried several times. Ron and Hermione have asked him about it. They’ve noticed something is “off”, as they call it.

“It’s not that we’re not glad you aren’t fighting anymore. There’s been enough fighting,” Hermione had said.

“Yeah, it’s just… weird, you know. Now you’re just staring at each other,” Ron  had added.

Harry sighs as he tries to remember what he told them. It was probably something vague. Because… what Ron and Hermione don’t know… Harry has been meeting him. At night. In secret. They would just sit together and talk. But, Harry supposes, not like other people would.

They each take turns talking, while the other listens. Just listens. There are no interruptions, no judgement. They just each let the other talk. It’s been weirdly therapeutic. And also soothing.

Yesterday was Harry’s turn and after talking about his godson and Quidditch and classes, he also recounted one of his nightmares. He never talks about them with anyone. He doesn’t want to hear what they mean or that maybe he should see a mind healer. He knows perfectly well what they mean. So, simply talking about it, having the opportunity to get it out in the open and out of his system… it’s freeing. Harry also never appreciated before, how much it means when somebody listens, really just listens to him. It is a whole new experience.

As Harry makes his way to the tower nobody wants to go to anymore, he wonders what _he_ will talk about tonight. Sometimes he talks about his mother. Never about his father. Sometimes he doesn’t say anything at all and they just sit there in silence. At first, Harry thought this was a waste of time. But it was in that silence, he realized that something really is different between them. It’s as if something between them has… shifted.

So when Harry sees Draco enter the tower, his body doesn’t go rigid. It relaxes. When Draco sits down beside him and their fingers touch, Harry doesn’t pull away. He welcomes the warmth. When Draco doesn’t say anything, Harry isn’t annoyed. He understands.

It’s in that moment, as Draco lays his head on Harry’s shoulder and Harry puts an arm around his waist, that he knows. He never thought he could be this sure. But he is. He knows.

He’s in love.

And it makes him smile.


	9. Chapter 9

The painting

 

Harry and Draco just moved in together and the first thing Harry notices is that Draco didn’t bring many personal items with him. The few things he did bring with him are immediately stowed away in the attic. Draco says they don’t mean much to him anyway and refuses to set up any pictures of his family, too. One day, Harry’s curiosity gets the better of him and while Draco’s at work, he goes to the attic and finds Draco’s box. Leaning against it, there’s a painting. Harry doesn’t know anything about art, but it looks dark. And complex. It’s almost like he can feel the pain that went into it with every brushstroke. He bites his lip and slowly takes out his wand.

A few days later, Draco notices the door to the attic is ajar. Frowning, he moves to close it, when his gaze falls onto his painting. His frown deepens as he remembers his desperation in sixth year and how the Room of Requirement had seemed to understand it and had provided Draco with something he could express his feelings with. The dark green and black streaks still make him feel hollow inside. He never finished the painting. The bottom right-hand corner is still untouched. Only… now there’s something there. Draco moves closer and his eyes widen as he sees Harry’s scrawly handwriting, gleaming in scarlet. He needs a second to collect himself. When he goes back downstairs, he finds Harry in the kitchen, making dinner. Draco steps up behind him, wraps his arms around his waist and buries his face in Harry’s hair. Harry leans back against him and makes a pleased sound. Draco inhales deeply and then murmurs,

“I love you, too.”

Draco feels Harry’s warm hand on his and they stay like this for a while in silence.

The painting is now in Draco’s study. It’s opposite his desk and Draco finds himself gazing at it whenever he’s lost in thought. But when he looks at it now, it doesn’t hurt anymore. Draco can’t forget about his past, but he is no longer haunted by it. Because now he has Harry.


	10. Chapter 10

3:50 pm

 

Every Friday at exactly 3:50 pm Draco makes sure to kiss Harry.

_Every_ Friday. He hasn’t been late once either. Because Draco always drops everything he’s doing, no matter what he’s doing, to go and look for Harry. It’s not that easy sometimes. Harry has a job that, unlike Draco’s, requires him to actually leave the house. Whenever Draco shows up at his workplace, Harry’s face lightens up. He has never complained about Draco interrupting his work. Not once.

Even when they’re fighting and they’re both in a bad mood, they briefly forget about it when it’s 3:50 on a Friday. Like right now. They had an argument last night about Harry getting a motorcycle. Draco just doesn’t get why Harry would want to spend that much money on something that will probably kill him. They both fell asleep with a scowl on their face and they didn’t talk while eating breakfast. Harry left the house while Draco was reading the paper.

But now, as Draco stands in front of him, Harry is smiling at him fondly. Merlin, Draco just never tires of that smile. Even after all these years.

He glances at the clock and sees it’s 3:49. His eyes find Harry’s and they hold so much love, it makes Draco shudder. He takes Harry’s hands in his and pulls him closer. When his lips brush Harry’s, a familiar feeling washes over him. It’s warm and invigorating, reassuring and exhilarating. Kissing Harry will never fail to consume and mesmerize Draco.

Harry leans away again and brushes his thumb over Draco’s cheek.

“I still have a bit of work to do, but I’ll try to be home early, okay?”

“Okay,” Draco whispers, his eyes still closed.

He feels Harry kiss the tip of his nose and can’t help but grin. He pulls Harry back into a tight embrace and relishes the feeling of Harry’s body shaking against his, as Harry laughs out loud.

“I love our Friday afternoon kisses,” Harry murmurs.

“I love them, too.”

Draco really does. Because it was 3:50 pm on a Friday afternoon when Harry Potter said “I do” and kissed Draco for the first time as his husband.


	11. Chapter 11

Rage

 

Draco feels a tremor tear through him. His fists are clenched, his jaw muscles tense, his chest tight, his knees wobbly. He’s breathing heavily as his stomach twists viciously, the hot feeling inside it beginning to spread, infecting the rest of his body. Like venom. He stares down the empty corridor, lit by torches. His vision blurs, little spots appearing in front of him. He feels dizzy. He wants to scream. He wants this feeling inside of him to take a physical form, so he can punch it, destroy it.

He wants the rage to leave his body.

Well, what Draco really wants is the cause of his rage to go away. How many letters from his father is he supposed to receive calmly, while Lucius keeps going on and on about how disappointed he is in his son, not sure if he can be even called his son any longer.

Draco feels sick. His stomach gives another twist, but Draco refuses to show weakness. He will not be sick. No. He hears, rather than feels, his jaw cracking as he tenses his muscles further. His arms are shaking now. Unthinkingly, he turns to the wall and punches it. Hard. He feels no pain, but there’s another cracking sound.

Draco feels his eyes sting, which only makes him angrier. This will not make him cry. He will not spill a single tear over this. And yet, he can’t seem to stop the hot tears from running down his cheeks.

He startles when he hears footsteps echoing off the walls. He hastily wipes the tears away with his sleeve and looks up. Of course. _Of course_ it has to be _Potter_!

“Malfoy.” He sounds puzzled. “What are you doing here?”

Draco doesn’t answer and averts his eyes, in fear of Potter noticing he just had a moment of weakness.

“Malfoy,” Potter repeats. Draco feels a new surge of anger course through him. He wants to hit Potter. Hexing him wouldn’t be gratifying enough. He wants to physically injure him with his hands, his whole body.

Before Potter knows what’s happening, Draco lunges at him. His fist connects with his jaw and Potter stumbles backward. He blinks a few times, obviously flabbergasted and blinks at Draco stupidly. After a moment, he frowns.

“What the hell, Malfoy?”

Draco lunges at him again, trying to land a punch. His vision blurs once more, making it difficult to see where to hit Potter. But it doesn’t matter. Draco doesn’t care which part of Potter he will injure, as long as it hurts. He wants Potter to hurt as much as he does.

But Potter is fighting back. He hits Draco in the stomach, making him flinch. He welcomes the sharp pain. It numbs the other sensations in his body. It doesn’t last long, though. Once again, he feels detached from his body. 

Draco’s not sure, but he thinks he got Potter on his shoulder and punched his chest, knocking the breath out of him. When Draco starts whirling around again, striking out in an uncontrolled manner, he suddenly feels arms encircling him, clutching him.

“Damn it, Malfoy, stop,” Potter shouts. He tightens his grip, trying to get Draco to stop moving. Draco fights against the restraint, tries to break free, but Potter is apparently stronger than him.

“Bloody hell, I heard you’ve been starting fights lately for no apparent reason,” Potter squeezes out while Draco still tries to get him off him. “What is the matter with you?”

Draco just grunts and tries to shove his elbow into Potter’s side. He fails. When all his attempts fail, he finally slumps down. Potter, surprised by the sudden extra weight, tumbles and they both go down.

Draco needs a moment to realise he’s half sitting in Potter’s lap, his body still somewhat encircled by Potter’s arms. It’s too much. Draco can’t take this. The hot tears he spilled earlier are nothing compared to what’s happening right now. He’s choking on his own sobs, every inhale torture to his lungs.

He can’t even win a fight against Potter, Draco thinks bitterly. Is his father right? Is Draco really a disappointment? Draco is faintly aware that he’s heaving and puffing, his chest aching.

“Malfoy,” Potter says quietly, uncertainty clear in his voice. He hasn’t moved his arms and Draco wants to slap them away, because the warmth that’s seeping through his robes is too bittersweet for him to bear. It’s not Potter’s intention to comfort him with this proximity.

“Your hand,” Potter suddenly mutters. Draco looks down at it. His hand his bruised and swollen, the skin on his knuckles cracked. He still doesn’t feel any pain. He’s just numb, like most days lately, not in control of his own body.

He hates that he can’t get up and just leave. He’s still sitting in Potter’s lap, sobbing like a child. Draco feels a tentative finger under his chin and tries to jerk his head away, but Potter’s grip is firm. He forces Draco to look at him and Draco can do nothing against it. He stares at Potter as several emotions pass over his face. His eyes are wide and his mouth opens to release a warm puff of breath. Draco feels it on his face and it’s like Potter has struck him.

The aching in his chest worsens and Draco breaks down completely. He lets his head fall down, not caring where it lands. The fingers under his chin disappear, as Draco’s head hits something solid. Potter’s shoulder, he realises, when something soft tickles his ear. Potter’s hair.

Draco knows this is wrong. He knows Potter is getting a glimpse of something, Draco has been trying to hide from everyone. He can’t show weakness. He just can’t.

He isn’t sure, at first, if he’s imagining something pressing into his back and the warmth on his cheek, until he tries to turn his head and finds that he can’t. Because Potter’s cheek is pressing into his, his arms are around Draco once more. He’s drawing circles on Draco’s back with his palms rather awkwardly.

Draco really does know this is wrong and he has no idea what possessed Potter to actually try and comfort him, but when Draco feels a warm hand move over his head and begins stroking his hair, Draco closes his eyes and decides that, just for tonight, he will forget about everything that is wrong.


	12. Chapter 12

Ice cream

 

Draco grunted as he fumbled with the collar of his dress shirt. His face was contorted in distaste as he felt little beads of sweat running down his neck. Ugh, disgusting! Potter had already pointed out that it was far too hot outside to be wearing a dress shirt, but Draco refused to wear the kind of sordid clothes Potter seemed to love so much. It suited _him_ , of course, but Draco had a reputation to uphold.

That was a bit of a stupid reason, even Draco had to admit it, seeing as they were out and about in Muggle London, but Draco, unlike Potter, had class.

Them being friends was still very new to him and definitely needed some getting used to. Potter seemed already comfortable around Draco, always blabbering on about this and that, bumping Draco’s arm with his elbow, grinning at him mischievously…

Blaise had remarked that it very much seemed like he and Potter were dating, but that was just ridiculous. They had just met for coffee a few times, had gone to the movies (Potter’s idea of course and Draco was still a bit traumatised) and had gone for a few walks, like now. Yes, Draco had been a little surprised earlier when Potter had asked him if he wanted to come back to his place later for dinner, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary, was it? Friends did that… right?

As they continued walking down the street, Draco peered sideways and saw that Potter’s face was rather flushed and there were little beads of sweat running down his neck, too.

“Maybe we should have stayed inside today,” Potter wheezed. “I honestly don’t understand how you haven’t fainted yet.” He gazed at Draco’s shirt and his cloth trousers in discomfort.

“Well,” Draco began, eyeing Potter’s burgundy T-shirt and his short trouser, which reached to his knees, “I was taught elegance is a virtue, as well as endurance. Clearly, a concept which seems to be lost on you.” He let his eyes wander over Potter’s body and gave him an appraising look when their eyes met again. Potter seemed to stifle a giggle. 

“What?” Draco snapped.

“Endurance,” Potter snorted. “Alright then.” He flashed Draco a toothy grin. Draco had no idea what was so funny about that, but didn’t get the chance to ask. Potter’s eyes had focused on something on the other side of the street. Draco turned around, but had no idea what had caught Potter’s attention.

“Wait here,” Potter told him and and sprinted off. Draco crossed his arms over his chest, huffing. What was Potter up to? And how dare he make Draco wait alone in the middle of the street like this?

Draco tapped his foot impatiently as the minutes passed by. When Potter finally came into view again, Draco saw that he was holding… two ice lollies?

“Here,” Potter said enthusiastically, holding one out to Draco. He gave it a quick glance and made a face.

“No thank you,” he grunted.

“What? Why?”

“I don’t like ice cream,” Draco shrugged. Potter’s eyes widened at that.

“What? How can you not like ice cream?” He sounded genuinely baffled.

“I just don’t.”

Potter kept staring at him, the incomprehension at Draco’s revelation clearly visible on his face.

“You’re dripping,” Draco noted with a raised eyebrow.

“What? Oh!” Only now did Potter seem to notice that the ice lollies were melting quickly, dripping all over his hands. He lifted one hand to his mouth and dragged his tongue over his knuckles slowly. Mesmerised, Draco watched as Potter did the same thing to his other hand.

“You sure you don’t want it?” Potter asked, oblivious to Draco’s sudden inner turmoil. Not trusting his voice at this moment, he just waved a dismissive hand in the air. Potter shrugged and lifted one of the ice lollies to his mouth. 

Sweet Merlin!

Draco almost choked as Potter’s lips closed around the ice lollie. He pushed it deeper into his mouth and started sucking. Draco had to control himself not to clutch his chest in surprise. He winced when Potter made a slurping noise.

“You know,”  Potter said happily, “I had my first ice lolly when I was ten years old. I really like them.”

Draco had trouble concentrating on what Potter was saying, but still, a frown formed on his face.

“You hadn’t had ice cream before that?”

Potter shook his head and looked at the two ice lollies in his hands. They were both dripping like mad. He lifted one to his mouth again and licked it, painfully slow, from the bottom up, before sticking it in his mouth again. This time, he twirled it around, before releasing it again with a little ‘pop’.

Draco was sure he was about to faint. The heat wasn’t exactly helping, either. 

“Potter,” he spluttered. He stepped forward and gazed at his mouth intently. “Ugh, you really are an imbecile, aren’t you?”

Potter’s mouth and his chin were smeared with the remnants of the ice lolly. Draco reached out and stroked the corner of Potter’s mouth with his thumb. He saw Potter’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

“It’s sticky,” Draco muttered. He wasn’t really aware that he was leaning down, until his tongue made contact with Potter’s skin. Surprised by his own boldness, he quickly stepped back.

“I don’t know why I did that.”

Potter was flushed and he looked like he was trying to decide something.

“Sod that,” he suddenly muttered and let go of the two ice lollies. Before they hit the ground, Potter had his arms around Draco’s neck and their lips pressed together. Draco made a startled sound when Potter’s tongue pushed into his mouth. He tasted like artificial oranges. Yuck! But the things Potter apparently could do with that tongue…

“Let’s go back to my place,” Potter panted after a few moments. “Oh, but first, let me go back to that store real quick.”

Draco frowned.

“Why?”

“Because,” Potter said with one of his mischievous grins, “I want more ice cream.” He dropped his voice to a low, seductive whisper. “I want creamy, rich chocolate ice cream.” Draco shuddered at the way Potter was looking at him. “And I plan to lick it off your chest and out of your navel.”

This time, Draco really did choke. He recovered rather quickly, however, and grabbed Potter’s hand.

“Merlin, what are we waiting for?”


	13. Chapter 13

For the better

 

Draco still can’t believe his luck. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. In fact, considering everything he’s done in the past, he doesn’t deserve any of this. Yet, here he is, three years after the war, happy and content. At least theoretically.

Like most nights, Draco clutches his blanket and stares at the ceiling. Sleeping has been difficult. Not because of the nightmares. They’re not completely gone, but it’s much better now. No, it’s because his chest won’t stop hurting.

He slowly turns his head to gaze at the sleeping man beside him. Draco flinches as his heart gives another painful squeeze. He stretches out his hand and carefully buries his hand in the mop of black curls, relishing the softness. Harry makes a pleased sound in his sleep and his lips curl up ever so slightly. Draco presses his own lips into a tight line.

Sometimes he feels like his heart is going to burst from all the happiness he feels. It’s like his body can’t cope with it, because it doesn’t know how. He’s never felt like this before. But most importantly, he doesn’t deserve this beautiful and kind man, sleeping next to him.

He still doesn’t understand what made Harry want to go out with him. He even initiated it. And now they’re living together. Draco still has a hard time showing his feelings. How can he be open about it, when he’s so conflicted and doesn’t even know what to feel most of the time? It’s hard to just accept the happiness and the way Harry seems to love him so freely.

Draco thought about ending it numerous times. Harry could do so much better than him. Not that he would ever admit that out loud, but it’s true, Draco thinks sadly. But he is far too selfish to give up on Harry.

When Draco brushes his fingers against Harry’s cheek, the other man stirs and knits his brows together.

“Can’t sleep?” he mumbles without opening his eyes.

Draco smiles at him.

“It’s okay,” he  whispers. “Sorry for waking you.”

Harry takes Draco’s hand and interlaces their fingers. He scoots over to him and buries his face in the crook of Draco’s neck. He inhales deeply and lets out a contented sigh.

Draco feels that familiar squeeze in his chest again. He wraps his arm around Harry and plants a kiss on his hair. In this moment, he vows something to himself. Not a day will go by without him trying to make this beautiful man in his arms as happy as possible. He will do everything in his power to show Harry how grateful he is that Harry chose him, for loving him, for making him want to be a better man. But how?

On the outside, he’s still as haughty and snarky as ever, but his friends keep telling him he’s changed. For the better.

He apologised to Granger and Weasley, but he knows he can do better and he’s determined to do so. Not only for Harry’s sake, but also his own.

And that’s when Draco realises, the only way he can make his boyfriend truly happy, is by being happy himself.  

It won’t be easy. He can’t just stop feeling guilty and undeserving. But he hopes he will get there someday. He can’t erase what happened in the past, but what happens in the future, that is up to him. He’s grateful he even got the chance at having a future, let alone with Harry. 

So yes, Draco thinks again, he will do everything he can to make Harry happy. And that, apparently, starts with him admitting he is truly happy himself.


	14. Chapter 14

Exhausting

 

Harry rolled his shoulders experimentally and regretted it as soon as the pain of his clenched muscles shot through him. His arms were heavy and holding his head up became more difficult with every passing second. He was simply exhausted. He dragged his feet across the floor, not caring about the mud on his shoes. He almost collapsed when he reached the stairs; he couldn’t go up.  He could barely move!

He was about to surrender to the aching in his body, his insides screaming at him to lie down, when two arms circled him from behind. Harry didn’t turn around and made no sound as the arms tightened around him and a body pressed against him from behind. The exhaustion didn’t vanish, but it was momentarily replaced by shame. 

Draco had begged him not to go on this mission, not to go undercover for two months. But Draco didn’t understand. Harry had no choice. Still, he felt like he let Draco down. They hadn’t been able to communicate at all for the last eight weeks.

Harry grunted when Draco started moving them up the stairs, pushing Harry forward with his own body. Everything around him became a blur. He closed his eyes as Draco undressed him.

“Are you hurt somewhere?” Draco asked curtly. Harry tried to shake his head and winced.

“No,” he croaked. “They…” He took a deep breath and tried to open his eyes. “They would have taken me to St Mungo’s if they’d thought it was bad.”

Draco huffed in response and wordlessly moved them to the shower. When the first splash of hot water hit Harry’s scalp, he let out a whimper. He leaned back against Draco and let the other man support his weight. Draco’s touch was tentative and yet sure as he washed the grime out of Harry’s hair and off his body.

The hot water made everything blurry again and Harry felt so dizzy and weak, his knees gave away. Draco caught him before he could hit the floor. Draco always caught him.

Harry blinked and realised he must have passed out. His head was on a fluffy pillow, a soft mattress under him. His fingers brushed the silk sheets as he slowly moved his hand, searching the warm touch of his boyfriend. Long fingers intertwined with his. Draco brought their hands to his face and hesitantly kissed Harry’s knuckles. When Harry brushed his fingers across Draco’s cheek, the smile that had been starting to form on his lips immediately died. He turned his head, so he could see the blond’s face.

“Draco,” Harry said, his voice thick and raspy. The other man was looking at him with red-rimmed eyes, clearly trying not to sob. Harry’s chest tightened at the sight. Before he could say anything else, Draco moved closer to him and buried his face in the crook of Harry’s neck. Feeling the wetness of Draco’s tears on his skin almost made him choke.

“Please,” Draco sobbed, uncontrollably now. “Please, don’t ever do that to me again. I thought you were dead.”

Harry lifted his other arm to wrap it around his boyfriend. His face contorted in pain, but it didn’t matter how much pain he was in.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, stroking Draco’s hair.

“Please, Harry! I know it’s selfish, but-”

Harry pulled him closer and pressed his cheek on Draco’s forehead.

“No, it’s okay. It’s okay for you to feel that way,” he whispered. They’ve had many arguments about Harry’s job in the past, but never had Draco broken down like this before. It was the final straw for Harry to reconsider his career. The last few weeks hadn’t been easy for him either. He had questioned more and more if this was all worth it, risking his life like that over and over again.

“I’m sorry I missed both our birthdays,” Harry murmured against Draco’s hair.

“There’s still a bit of cake left,” Draco hiccuped. “Molly brought it over yesterday. Andromeda and Teddy were here, too. They thought you might come home for your… for your birthday.” Draco squirmed as he started sobbing again. Harry leaned down to kiss his cheek, suppressing a groan as his muscles protested.

“I won’t leave you again. I promise, okay?”

Draco grunted and shook his head vigorously.

“No, I mean it,” Harry said, “I won’t do it again. I hate seeing you like this and frankly, if it were the other way round, I’d probably go insane. So, I’m going to tell Kingsley tomorrow, that I’m taking a leave of absence. And then we’ll see where things will go, okay?”

It took Draco a while to calm down after that. When he peeked up at Harry, his eyes were puffy and his face blotchy.

“I should be the one comforting you. I’m sorry for pressuring you like this,” he murmured.

“No,” Harry said, resolutely. “Nothing is worth making you feel like this. And honestly, I hate being away from you all the time. We had so many plans when we started going out and we didn’t even get to do half of it because of my stupid job. Sod that! I want to spend every waking moment with you.”

Draco sniveled, rather inelegantly.

“You don’t have to say that just because you think it’s what I want to hear.”

“Well, believe me or not,” Harry said, tightening his grip on Draco again, “from now on, you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

Draco buried his face in Harry’s neck again, his body shaking. Harry realised this was the second time he’d seen Draco cry. And Harry promised himself it would be the last.


	15. Chapter 15

Your secret is safe with me

 

“Blaise,” Draco fumed, storming into the living room, “what happened to the chest of drawers in my room?”

Blaise looked up from the paper he was reading and grinned at Draco.

“Do you like the new one? You’ve been whining about it so much, I thought I’d just replace that awful old-timer.”

“What did you do with that _old-timer_?”

“I sold it,” Blaise shrugged.

“You sold it,” Draco repeated flatly.

“Yes.”

“Who did you sell it to?” Draco asked frantically.

“No idea,” Blaise said. “I didn’t get a name. Two people came by to pick it up. I think they were Muggles.”

Draco felt like he was about to faint.

“Did you take everything out beforehand?”

Blaise snorted.

“Of course! What do you take me for?”  
  
“Everything?” Draco insisted.

Blaise raised an eyebrow at Draco’s tone and studied him.

“Yes, everything.”

Draco took a step closer and narrowed his eyes.

“Even what was under the secret false bottom in the second drawer, nobody but me knows about?”

Blaise paled and his mouth opened.

“Oh,” he simply said.

“Yes, oh,” Draco growled. “Great, now I have to hunt it down. You’re a lousy flatmate.”

“Hey, I just wanted to do you a favour,” Blaise said defensively.

“You better hope they haven’t found what’s inside it, or I’m going to kill you.”

Doing the locator spell was easy enough. Draco had feared it wouldn’t work, but it seemed there were no wards guarding the flat the chest of drawers had ended up in. Draco apparated to the flat, his heart hammering as he knocked.

When the door opened, Draco was sure he had to be dreaming. Of all the people in the world. Of course. _Of course._

“Malfoy?” Potter seemed stunned. He was holding a toothbrush and was only dressed in a green t-shirt and pants. “How did you find me?”

Draco shook his head, willing his mind to work properly again.

“You have something of mine,” he said curtly.

“And what might that be?” Potter responded, a grin beginning to form on his lips. It took Draco off guard for a moment.

“Can I just come in and check something?”

Potter stepped aside and gestured for Draco to come in. Draco wasted no time and quickly found the chest of drawers in the corner of Potter’s bedroom. He opened the second drawer and took out the little book he had been so desperate to get back.

“What’s that?” Potter asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Nothing of your concern. It shouldn’t have been in there,” Draco huffed.

“Hmmm,” Potter hummed. “You know, I never would have thought you kept a diary.”

Draco blushed, quickly hiding his hands behind his back.

“It’s not a diary,” he said lamely.

Potter nodded, but he had a mischievous smile on his face.

“You want a drink?” he asked, turning around and heading back into the living room. Draco blinked and tried to find his voice again.

“Um, no thank you. You were obviously getting ready for bed. I won’t disturb you any longer,” he said hastily.

“You sure? It might be a great opportunity,” Potter grinned. Draco gave him a quizzical look.

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Potter shrugged, “after two Firewhiskeys you might get the chance to run your hands through my _incredibly infuriating, magnificent head of hair_.” Potter tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t suppress a snicker. “I might even let you touch my _strong and marvellous jawline_.”

Never had Draco wished more the ground would open and swallow him up.

“You read it,” he said through gritted teeth. “You had no right.”

“True,” Potter replied, nonchalant. “I’d let you read mine in return, but I don’t keep a diary.” He stepped closer to Draco, studying his face intently.

“You look rather cute when you’re flushed.”

Draco made a sound that was something between a weird gurgle and a high-pitched squeak. Whatever it was, it was highly embarrassing.

Potter chuckled, coming to a halt right in front of Draco.

“I mean, I could just show you what kind of fantasies I’d be writing in that diary,” he said in a low whisper.

Draco gulped, not quite grasping what Potter was saying.

“Like what?” he breathed.

“Hmmm.” Potter’s eyes flickered down to Draco’s lips. “Like how I want to grab you right now and kiss you until you can’t breathe.”

Draco’s mouth opened involuntarily. Breathing was already hard with Potter standing so close to him.

“And then,” Potter continued, deliberately breathing on Draco’s lips, “I’d want your hands on _the most delicious and perfect arse you have ever seen in your life_.”

Draco groaned loudly. This was just too much. But then again, Potter really seemed to be teasing him in a rather flirtatious way. Trying to conceal his nervousness, he raised his chin and fixed Potter with a glare.

“These better not just be empty promises,” Draco said haughtily.

“Oh, they’re not,” Potter smirked, his eyes gleaming as he started pouring their drinks.

 

***

 

_3 days later…_

 

“So… you haven’t…”

“No, not yet” Harry grumbled. “He left after we snogged for about half an hour and I thought it was going to happen, because, I mean, there was definitely some groping… but then he just took off.” He downed his firewhiskey in one gulp and slammed the glass on the table.

“A bit frustrated about that, are we?” Ron grinned.

“Yeees,” Harry whined. “I don’t know what happened.” He lowered his head to the table and rested his face on his hands. “One minute I’m totally fine and then I read this stupid diary with all these fantasies… and he complimented my hair, Ron! And my eyes.”

“Yes, you might have already mentioned that once or twice,” Ron said, trying to sound exasperated, but he couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice. “Wow, you really got it bad for him, don’t you, mate?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Harry mumbled.

“Oh, that’s funny, because you haven’t been able to shut up about it for the last few days. You flooed over in the middle of the night, you interrupted one breakfast and two dinner dates I had with Hermione and-”

“Is that so?” a haughty voice behind them chimed in.

Harry almost fell out of his chair when he turned around.

“Malfoy,” he breathed.

“Potter,” he nodded with a smirk. “So, you’ve been talking about me, have you?”

Harry hated the way Malfoy’s eyes gleamed as he looked at him, the way his smirk was crooked, his stupid white teeth and his hair… his hair that had felt so soft when Harry had touched the back of Malfoy’s neck.

Harry felt himself blush and quickly cleared his throat.

“It’s not what you-”

“Whatever, Potter. Come with me.” Harry didn’t resist when Malfoy dragged him across the bar, but he felt a bit irritated. Malfoy stopped in the hall in front of the bathrooms and before Harry knew what was going on, he felt himself being pressed against the wall.

The smirk on Malfoy’s face had turned darker. He was biting his lip. Harry suddenly felt hot all over. It was increased by Malfoy sliding his hands up Harry’s arms and grabbing his face. Right before their lips were about to touch, Malfoy paused.

“So… last time we did this, you were telling me all about the things you wanted to do,” Malfoy said in a low whisper. Harry gulped. “How about now?”

“I, err… I…” Harry couldn’t think of anything to say.

“What’s the matter? Not so eager anymore?”

“What? _You_ weren’t that eager three days ago,” Harry countered, his voice a bit shaky.

“Oh, I was eager alright. You just completely took me off guard then. I wanted to return the favour.”

Harry’s eyes widened at that.

“Is that why you came here tonight? After you left and didn’t answer any of my messages? Vengeance? Really, Malfoy?”

Malfoy shrugged.

“You know, Slytherin and all that.” 

He let out a small puff of air that made Harry shiver and finally closed the gap between them. Harry groaned as he felt Malfoy’s tongue sliding into his mouth. Malfoy suddenly let go of his face and grabbed his wrists. Pinning them with one hand over Harry’s head, he ran his other hand down Harry’s chest until he reached his hip.

Harry jerked in anticipation when Malfoy moved his hand to his bum. The way he was caressing it made Harry want to throw his head back. But he couldn’t move. He was backed against a wall, his hands in Malfoy’s tight grip.

“Is this… is this one of your fantasies? I didn’t see it in the diary,” Harry mumbled against Malfoy’s mouth. He felt Malfoy smile and he smacked Harry’s bum once.

“Maybe,” he whispered and tilted his head. Harry suddenly felt Malfoy’s tongue on his jawline and gasped. Malfoy licked his way all the way up to Harry’s ear and then began sucking his earlobe. Harry felt like he was about to faint. Malfoy turning his attention to Harry’s neck and sucking even harder didn’t exactly help that whole situation.

“Oh Merlin,” Harry moaned. Malfoy definitely was skilled with his tongue. He felt Malfoy’s hand move lower onto his thigh and nearly jumped when it came closer and closer to the bulge that had formed in the front of Harry’s trousers.

“Merlin,” Harry moaned again. Malfoy’s hand was so close and the way he was sucking Harry’s neck made him tingle all over. He felt like he was going to explode.

“SWEET MERLIN!”

_Yeah_ , Harry thought, _exactly_. Wait. He hadn’t said that out loud. _What-_

He turned his head sideways to see Ron stare at them, his mouth hanging open. Malfoy quickly let go of Harry’s hands, but he didn’t step away from him. Harry let his hands drop around Malfoy’s shoulders and clutched the back of Malfoy’s neck.

“Seriously? You couldn’t apparate home? You had to give everyone a show on their way to the loo?”

Harry felt the initial shock fade and started snickering.

“There better be no cocks out right now,” Ron exclaimed, holding a hand over his eyes. Harry knew he was just teasing them. Ron had never been a good actor. The smile on his face and the way he was peeking through his fingers completely gave him away.

“Not yet, but that could be arranged,” Harry purred, leaning his head against Malfoy’s.

“I like the sound of that,” Malfoy murmured back and kissed Harry’s hair.

“Damn it, you guys are a lot cuter than I thought,” Ron said, faking a pout. “But you’ll never beat me and Hermione!”

Malfoy and Harry exchanged quick looks and started laughing.

“We’ll see about that,” Harry grinned.

“Game on, Weasley!”


	16. Chapter 16

A special day

 

“I can’t believe you went for the chocolate cake.”

“Why? It’s so good!”

Draco shakes his head as he smiles at Harry fondly.

“We just had a three course meal. I honestly don’t understand how your stomach isn’t bursting. Mine is about to.”

Harry grins at him, the fork still in his mouth. He pulls it out deliberately slow and gives it an extra lick. His eyes sparkle in the candlelight and Draco can’t help but think how lucky he is and that Harry has never looked more handsome.

“Do I have any chocolate on my face?” Harry asks, wiping his chin inelegantly with his napkin. Draco snorts. Sometimes Harry just has impeccable timing.

“Oh Merlin, come here,” Draco mutters, still unable to wipe that smile off his face. He leans over the table and brushes Harry’s jaw with his fingertips. Harry lets out a little sigh when Draco presses their lips together. He briefly sucks on Harry’s bottom lip and feels him shake with laughter as he releases it.

“All chocolate gone?” Harry chuckles.

“All gone,” Draco grins. He leans back in his seat and watches Harry as he gulps down his wine.

“Sometimes I wonder,” Draco mutters in mock distaste.

“What, why you love me?” Harry immediately says, smacking his lips. Draco hides his face behind his hands and starts laughing; the way only Harry can make him. He asked himself that question a lot in the past, why he fell in love with The Boy Who Lived of all people. But the answer is simple.

_Because he’s Harry._

“Come on, you have to try it.”

Draco lowers his hands and meets Harry’s gaze.

“The cake,” Harry says excitedly.

When he lifts his fork and holds it out to Draco, Draco’s eyes fall on the ring on Harry’s finger. His lips curl upwards and he finally leans forward and opens his mouth wide. The cake is indeed delicious. It’s velvety and melts pleasantly on his tongue.

As Harry takes another bite, Draco rests his chin on his hand and just gazes at his husband. When they agreed to go to this restaurant tonight, neither of them mentioned what day it is. They didn’t need to. They both know. And yet, neither of them says it out loud. They didn’t toast and they didn’t exchange gifts. They are each other’s gift. _As corny as that sounds_ , Draco thinks and momentarily scrunches his nose.   
  
“You’ll get wrinkles if you keep doing that,” Harry remarks.  
  
“And you’ll get a divorce if you keep talking with your mouth full.”

Harry chokes on the cake in his mouth, obviously trying no to burst out laughing.  
  
“Wait until tomorrow at least,” he snickers. Draco’s answering smile is wide and warm.

He appreciates the way they both acknowledge this day, without really talking about it. They didn’t plan it. They don’t seem to need any words to know that this is perfect as it is. 

Maybe Harry would have made a big thing out of it if he didn’t know Draco so well. But he does. And Draco knows Harry doesn’t want a big, over the top gesture either. Maybe as a joke. But this is far too important and precious to make fun of. Maybe in twenty years. But not today. Today, Draco just wants to enjoy this moment. Their first anniversary of many to come.


	17. Chapter 17

Lucky

 

“Um, Malfoy,” Harry muttered. “What are you doing?” Baffled, he looked at the Slytherin, who didn’t seem to be concerned at all.

“I’m resting. I’m so tired,” Malfoy mumbled, eyelids fluttering shut. He did sound pretty sleepy. Harry blinked as Malfoy’s lips stretched into a soft, contented smile.

“Okay,” Harry said slowly. “But why are you resting on my lap?”

“Why not?” Malfoy replied. “Seems like a good place to me.”

Harry stiffened as Malfoy turned his head and snuggled into him. What was he playing at?

“Oi, Harry!” Harry looked up. Seamus had just entered the eighth year common room and was grinning at him. “Don’t you two look cosy,” he said with a wink. Harry blushed and tried to move his legs but Malfoy was just too heavy.

“I have no idea what’s going on,” Harry murmured. What had gotten into Malfoy?

“And then we have to get started on Transfiguration but first we have to- Oh!” Hermione stopped dead behind Seamus. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her, her studying schedule obviously forgotten. If only momentarily. Ron, who had seemed rather displeased with his girlfriend’s evening plans a second ago, suddenly had a weird glint in his eyes.

Harry watched his friends and was shocked when Hermione clutched her chest and put her other hand on Ron’s arm. He smiled at her and nodded.

“I thought something like this might happen,” he snickered.

“What?” Harry spluttered. When Pansy came into sight, a knowing grin on her face,  Harry felt like they were all in on a joke he didn’t get. “Can somebody please tell me what is going on?”

“Shhhhh,” came from Harry’s lap. “Trying to sleep here, remember?”

Harry eyed Malfoy suspiciously. He had to admit, he might have reacted a little differently if they had been alone. It was a bit sudden, but he wasn’t all that opposed to Malfoy lying on his lap.

Harry’s eyes darted to his friends again when Hermione leaned over to Pansy and whispered something to her. Looking exasperated, Pansy nodded. Harry still wasn’t used to the fact that they were all getting along so well now. Pansy could be fun but, still, Harry was a bit wary around her.

He kept his eyes on her as Hermione strode over to him.

“Don’t be mad,” she told him. Harry frowned.

“What did you do?”

“Well…” She looked at him sheepishly. “It’s more what I didn’t do.”

Harry looked at her, puzzled. She leaned closer to him and dropped her voice to a whisper.

“I didn’t stop Pansy, when she stole something from Slughorn’s personal stores and put it into Malfoy’s tea this morning.”

Harry’s frown deepened.

“What did she put in his tea?”

Hermione bit her lip and put a hand on his shoulder.

“We just felt like he deserved a good day for once. He’s been through so much.” She gazed at Malfoy thoughtfully. “That’s not to say you haven’t been having a hard time, either,” she added hastily. “But Pansy thought you might… benefit from it as well. Seems like she was right.”

Harry looked between Malfoy and Hermione, not understanding what she was telling him. It must have shown on his face. Hermione sighed and shook her head.

“Felix Felicis, that’s what Pansy put in his drink.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open.

“That’s why he’s being so weird?”

“You were weird, too, when you took it in sixth year,” Hermione reminded him.

Yeah, Harry mused, it had been a strange experience. He had felt so happy and cheerful, like nothing could go wrong. And, somehow, he had known exactly what he had to do to get… to get what he wanted.

_Oh!_

Harry’s eyes darted back to Malfoy, who was still smiling contentedly with his eyes closed. Harry wondered what would have happened if his friends had given _him_ the potion, instead of Malfoy. He doubted things would have been this forward but, maybe, it would have had a similar outcome.  

Ignoring the fact that everyone in the room was watching him, he slowly raised his hand and ran his fingers through Malfoy’s hair. The Slytherin let out a long sigh that made the corners of Harry’s mouth twitch.

As he sat there, stroking Malfoy’s hair and marvelling at the fluttery feeling in his stomach, Harry thought it was lucky he and Malfoy apparently wanted the same thing.


	18. Chapter 18

Hot mess

 

“Wow, it’s longer than I thought,” Draco muttered, examining the object in his hand. “And a lot… smoother.”

Harry grinned at him wickedly.

“I told you it would come in handy.” He reached out and clasped his fingers around Draco’s hand. “You have to turn it on,” he murmured. Draco gulped and glanced at Harry, uncertainty in his eyes.

“I’ve never… I haven’t-”

“I know,” Harry said soothingly. “I’ll show you.” He guided Draco’s thumb to the button, hovering over it. “Are you ready?”

Draco gulped once again and bit his lip.

“I… I don’t know.”

Harry took a step closer, so his front was pressed against Draco’s back.

“It’s okay,” Harry mumbled, while kissing Draco’s neck. “Don’t be nervous.”

Draco snorted and boldly placed his thumb on the button. Harry tightened his grip on Draco’s hand as he finally pushed it.

“Oh,” Draco breathed. “It’s making weird noises.”

Harry chuckled and started nibbling at Draco’s ear.

“Is it supposed to vibrate like that?” Draco asked in astonishment.

“Yeah.” Harry flicked his tongue over Draco’s earlobe and curled an arm around his waist. “Now, you have to put it in,” he purred. Draco made a choked sound and turned around to face his boyfriend.

“I can’t put it in yet! It’s not ready!” He sounded scandalised.  

“Just put it in. It will do the rest on its own.”

“I think we should wait a bit longer,” Draco protested, sounding very skeptical. Harry trailed his fingers up his chest and buried his face in Draco’s hair.

“Wait as long as you want, but I’m getting really… hungry,” he said in a low whisper.

Draco shivered and shook his head.

“Why are you always so impatient?”

“For Merlin’s sake, Draco, just put it in already!” Harry tried to guide Draco’s hand in the right direction, but the other man was fighting him.

“What if something goes wrong?”

Harry chuckled.

“Trust me, I’ve done this many times before.”

Draco huffed and glared at his boyfriend.

“No need to rub it in,” he muttered darkly. “Just because I’m a bit… inexperienced with Muggle technology doesn’t mean-”

“Draco! Just. Put. It. IN!”

Draco clicked his tongue once and turned around to concentrate on the object, still vibrating vigorously, in their joined hands.

“Alright, here we go.” Slowly, he lowered it and let out a gasp when the vibration intensified.

“There’s… there’s too much resistance,” he said through gritted teeth.

“You have to move it around a little. Like this,” Harry said, gently moving their hands.

“Oh, I see,” Draco said, bending over a little. “Oh yeah, that’s much better. It’s like- pfffffffff!”

Harry almost fell backwards when Draco started flailing and squealing.

“Draco, wait! At least turn it off!” He jumped forward and swiftly pushed the button. When his eyes landed on Draco again, he had to bite the inside of his cheek very hard to stop him from bursting into laughter.

“Harry Potter,” Draco shrieked. Harry stepped up to him and placed his hands on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to sound earnest. “I should have warned you that something like this might happen.”

“I can’t believe you,” Draco muttered darkly. “You said it was safe. You even said it would be fun!”

“It can be fun,” Harry said, not being able to contain his laughter any longer. Draco shot him another dark look, which only made Harry laugh louder.

“I’m sorry, but it’s difficult to take you seriously, when you’re covered in bits of pumpkin from head to toe.”

Draco wiped his face with his sleeve.

“And whose fault is that,” he grumbled.

“Yeah,” Harry chuckled. “Maybe we should have started with something else. But you love making soup and I thought-”

“Well, you thought wrong,” Draco snapped. “This vibrating stick is evil. EVIL!”

“Oh Merlin,” Harry sighed, still grinning. His eyes swept over Draco’s ruined clothes and his messed up hair. “Come on,” he said with a wink, dragging Draco out of the kitchen. “Let’s take a shower. I’m getting hungry for something else.”

“You’re turned on by me being covered in pumpkin?” Draco snorted. “You really are a weird one, Potter.”

“You could wear a hessian sack and I would be turned on,” Harry replied over his shoulder. “And you can’t tell me you don’t love that.”

Draco raised his chin, but a small smile started to form on his lips.

“True. As long as you don’t make me use that thing again!”

“Alright, alright,” Harry said with a sigh. “From now on, I’ll handle the hand blender.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this insanely cute drawing on tumblr](http://miyuneko.tumblr.com/post/162821402089/harry-potter-doodle-it-turned-into-drarry).

The Bigger Picture

 

_Sometime in 2nd year…[  
](http://miyuneko.tumblr.com/post/162821402089/harry-potter-doodle-it-turned-into-drarry)_

“Psst!” Nothing. “PSST!” Still nothing. “Creevey! For Merlin’s sake, get over here!” Draco watched as the small Gryffindor jumped and looked around, startled. “Over here,” Draco hissed, pressing his back against the wall. He had made sure Potter was gone before peeking from behind the corner of the corridor.

The Creevey boy looked frightened and pale as he slowly approached.

“W- What is it?” His voice was shaking. Draco knitted his brows together, stepping away from the wall and crossing his arms in front of his chest. If the younger boy’s expression was anything to go by, Draco had succeeded in looking imperious. He opened his mouth but didn’t get the chance to say what he had intended. Creevey’s lips started trembling and he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“Merlin, calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.” Draco had to admit, he didn’t exactly sound like he wasn’t going to hurt the boy, with the way he was snapping at him. But Draco didn’t care. He had other plans. He leaned closer to Creevey and lowered his voice.

“How much?”

“What?” Creevey looked at him with wide eyes.

“How much?” Draco repeated, getting a little impatient. “You just took a bunch of pictures of… Potter.” Draco made sure to put as much venom into the name as possible. Creevey’s face twisted in confusion.

“You want to buy my pictures? Of Harry Potter?” the boy practically shrieked.

“Hush!” Draco looked around anxiously. If anyone found out about this… “Just tell me how much you want for them.”

The Gryffindor eyed him suspiciously.

“Why do you want them? What are you planning to do with them? You don’t even like Harry Potter.”

Draco snorted and smoothed down his robes.

“Of course not.” He started laughing derisively, throwing his head back. Yeah, okay, maybe he was laying it on a bit thick. Creevey looked even more wary now. “I… um… I need them for…” Draco had no idea what to say. “I… I want to burn them.” Ha! There. That wasn’t so hard to believe, right? Only Creevey looked like Draco had just stolen his favourite candy from him.

“You want to burn them?” he yelped. “I’m not giving you my pictures so you can burn them!”

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. Why was everything involving Potter always so irritating?

“Fine, I don’t want to burn them,” he snapped. “I just want to- Ugh, just give them to me!”

“But why?” Creevey looked scared again. Draco had to give it to him, as much as Draco seemed to frighten him, he really stood his ground. Bloody Gryffindors. “You’re just saying you don’t want to burn them, so I will give them to you. Oh! Or maybe you want to perform some sort of spell with them! Is it Dark Magic? Are you going to curse him or something?” He gasped “Are you going to k- kill Harry Potter? With my pictures?”

Draco let out a frustrated grunt. This kid really had a wanton imagination.

“I like him, okay?” he burst out. “I like him.” As soon as the words had left his mouth, Draco wanted to slap himself.

“You do?” Creevey said incredulously.

“I-”

“You like me?”

Oh no. No, no, no, no, NO!

Draco turned around slowly, his heart hammering inside his chest. He blushed furiously when he saw Potter standing behind him.

“I… um…” Draco couldn’t even give a lame excuse for his outburst. His mind was completely blank.

“But you don’t like me,” Potter said, sounding genuinely surprised. “You’re mean to me all the time.”

Draco struggled for words and watched in horror as Potter’s expression changed.

“Oh.”

Draco pressed his lips into a tight line. He was trapped. There was no getting out of this one.

“Huh. I never would have guessed,” Potter muttered, more to himself than to Draco. He studied him for a moment and Draco suppressed a shiver at being scrutinised like that. “Should we… I mean… this is all very sudden,” Potter said. He sounded unsure. Draco groaned and tried to think of something humiliating to say to Potter.

“What do people do in a situation like this? I mean… to get to know each other. Is it the same as in the Muggle world?”

Draco blinked.

“What?”

Potter shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable.

“Well, I guess if we were in the Muggle world, we would err… go out and eat ice cream or… go to an amusement park or something.”

“An amusement-” Draco couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He wasn’t even sure he was comprehending what Potter was trying to tell him.

“Oh, maybe we could just go and… drink some pumpkin juice together?”

Draco gaped at him.

“Huh?”

Potter snickered.

“If you’re going to be this talkative, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to figure out if I like you, too, you know.”

This was the moment Draco decided he must be dreaming. This couldn’t be happening for real right now. Acting on impulse, he slapped himself across the cheek.

“Malfoy!” Potter looked at him in astonishment. Oh, so it really wasn’t a dream. And he had really just slapped himself. In front of Potter. And now Potter’s expression looked like he understood why Draco had done it. Merlin’s pants!

“Harryyyyyy,” a voice behind Draco suddenly chirped. “Can I come? Can I take picture of you and… him? What are you guys going to talk about? Is this a date? Are you going to date him now? Even though he is in Slytherin? What are you going to do about the Quidditch matches? You’re on opposing teams and-”

“SWEET SALAZAR, WILL YOU SHUT UP?” Draco was panting and blushing so hard, he wished the ground would swallow him up.

“Hey, look who finallly found his voice again,” Potter said cheerfully. Draco rolled his eyes at him and before Creevey could bombard them with more questions, he grabbed Potter’s wrist and dragged him down the corridor.

“Where are we going?” Potter asked, sounding amused.

“You said something about pumpkin juice,” Draco grumbled.

“What about the pictures? You were so eager to get them before.”

Draco stopped and glanced sideways at Potter, unable to hide his smile.

“I don’t think I’ll be needing them after all.”


	20. Chapter 20

Just say yes

 

“Fancy meeting you here.” Harry watched amusedly as Malfoy whirled around in surprise and almost dropped his champagne flute.

“Potter.” He sounded breathless, caught off guard. “I thought you were in Egypt on some mission.”

Harry cocked his head to one side and gave Malfoy a quizzical glance.

“I see you’ve been keeping tabs on me.”

“That’s not-” Malfoy’s cheeks turned rosy as he quickly looked away. “Your name is always all over the paper.”

“This was a secret mission,” Harry replied, trying not to snicker.

“Yeah, well… It’s- it’s hard to escape you. People talk about you everywhere. Everywhere!”

“Sure,” Harry said, taking a sip of champagne.

“Auror Potter! Auror Potter!” A small, middle-aged man behind Malfoy began waving frantically at Harry, almost jumping up and down in his excitement.

“Oh no,” Harry muttered. Malfoy took a look over his shoulder and rolled his eyes.

“Auror Potter! We didn’t expect you to be back so soon,” the middle-aged man said, clasping one of Harry’s hands and shaking it vigorously.

“Mister Franklin,” Harry said, barely able to hide his annoyance.

“You were on a mission I presume? Was it undercover? Did it go well?”

Harry sighed and briefly closed his eyes.

“Mister Franklin, a gala is hardly the place for an interview, is it?”

Mister Franklin chuckled and clasped Harry’s hand even tighter.

“You know how it is with us reporters, we never rest.”

“Oh yes, I know,” Harry said. “However, I am currently unavailable for a statement.”

“But Auror Potter-”

“If you will excuse me, Mister Franklin,” Harry interrupted him, freeing his hand from the other man’s grip and placing it on Malfoy’s back. “I have important business to attend to.”

He ignored the incredulous looks Mister Franklin and Malfoy were giving him and pushed through the crowd. Harry noticed how Malfoy’s body twitched under his touch. It made Harry’s stomach flip. He hadn’t planned to be so bold but escaping a reporter from the Daily Prophet always took priority.

He hoped Mister Franklin wasn’t following them. But even if he left them alone, almost every other person in the room was sure to assault Harry sooner or later. But he couldn’t leave yet. He had promised Kingsley he’d stay at least two hours. And now, after bumping into Malfoy, he had another reason to stay.

When Harry spotted the double doors leading to one of the balconies, he let out a sigh of relief. That could work. He gently pushed Malfoy outside, who was completely flustered at this point.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he snapped, slapping Harry’s hand away and smoothing down his robes.

“What? I really didn’t want to talk to that reporter,” Harry said shrugging.

“But why did you drag me along with you?” Malfoy studied him suspiciously and Harry noticed how he was clutching his champagne flute.

“I wanted to keep talking to you,” Harry said, surprised Malfoy had to ask.

“And what gave you the impression I wanted to keep talking to _you_?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Harry said, knitting his eyebrows together. “Feel free to go. It wasn’t my intention to bring you out here against your will.”

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. After a moment, he turned and walked to the edge of the balcony, resting his elbows against the railing.

It took Harry a moment to realise Malfoy wasn’t leaving after all. He was waiting for Harry to join him. Harry made sure the goofy smile had somewhat vanished before he stepped up beside Malfoy, mimicking his pose, and looked out to the garden below.

“It’s a little bit like Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it?” Harry said, relishing the sudden quietness around them.

Malfoy let out a snort and Harry was pretty sure he was rolling his eyes.

“For that you’d have to be standing down there, you knobhead.”

Harry blinked.

“I didn’t mean… I just meant the setting reminds me of-” He raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you’d want me to be standing down there, serenading you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Malfoy muttered. But Harry had the impression his cheeks were getting pinker by the second. “Besides, Romeo didn’t serenade Juliet.”

“He didn’t? Huh. I thought he did,” Harry said frowning. “Well that’s good I guess. I’m rubbish at singing.”

There was a long silence after that and Harry wondered what Malfoy was thinking about. He heard him take a deep breath before he finally spoke again.

“I guess we are a bit like Romeo and Juliet.”

Harry looked at him in astonishment.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, our families weren’t exactly enemies but I have often wondered what would have happened if my father hadn’t- if it weren’t for my father…maybe it wouldn’t have been impossible. Or forbidden.”

“Forbidden,” Harry repeated dumbstruck. “You mean to say…”

“I’m not saying anything,” Malfoy said quickly, clamping his mouth shut.

“I think you just did,” Harry insisted, giving the other man a toothy grin. “I have to admit, when I saw you tonight I didn’t think it would lead up to this.”

Malfoy didn’t reply and just stared at the fountain in the middle of the garden below them.

“It’s not too late, you know,” Harry said quietly. “We could still… well, how about we start with dinner?”

“Dinner?” Malfoy sounded skeptical. When he gulped down the rest of his champagne, Harry couldn’t contain a snicker.

“Dinner.” He turned to Malfoy and bit his lip. “All you have to do is say yes.”

When Malfoy didn’t say anything, Harry tentatively moved his hand down the railing and placed it on the other man’s.

“Just say yes.”

Harry watched as the corner’s of Malfoy’s mouth twitched and his body gave a little shiver.

“It’s that easy?”

“Yes,” Harry said. Malfoy cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the garden while his lips stretched into a smile.

“Is that a yes?” Harry asked. Malfoy turned his head to look at him, his eyes shining brightly.

“Yes, you twit! It’s a yes.”


	21. Chapter 21

Malfoys don't get sick

 

“I am not sick. Malfoys do not get sick!”

Harry gave Draco a skeptical look as the blond blew his nose for the seventh time since he had entered the room five minutes ago.

“Right,” Harry said, clicking his tongue.

“I am not sick,” Draco growled. He turned his back to Harry and made his way to the sofa, plopping down on it.

“Draco, there is no shame in being sick.”

“I am not- not- Achoo!”

Harry handed Draco another tissue before sitting down next to him. He lifted his hand and gently put it on Draco’s forehead.

“Oh, you’re burning up.”

“I’m not,” Draco said, pushing Harry’s hand away. “Besides, I feel cold.”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re obviously running a fever. Maybe I should call Hermione. I’m sure she could cure you of-”

“I don’t need her. I don’t need anything,” Draco interrupted him. “I am perfectly fi- fi- Achoo!”

Harry let out a sigh and shook his head.

“At least lie down and rest for a bit?”

Draco gave him a dark look that didn’t last for long.

“Well… I am a little tired.”

“Alright then,” Harry said, making room for Draco to lie down. He summoned two blankets from their bedroom and tucked his boyfriend in.

“There,” Harry said soothingly. “Sleep it off, okay?” He stroked Draco’s hair who nodded weakly before his eyelids fluttered shut.

After making sure Draco was fast asleep, Harry went into the kitchen to prepare something for Draco to eat when he woke up. He knew just what to do.

Two hours later, when Harry went back to the living room, a vase and several books were floating in mid-air, right above Draco’s head. Harry quickly set the tray of steaming porridge he was holding down on the table and got out his wand. He sent the vase and the books back to the shelf and kneeled down beside Draco.

“I think you’re magic is going a bit bonkers,” he murmured. Draco cracked open an eye and smiled dazedly at Harry.

“Hey,” he croaked.

“Hey.” Harry stroked his hair again and seated himself on the edge of the couch. “Are you hungry?”

“Ugh!” Draco weakly shook his head and scrunched up his nose.

“Come on, it’s Molly’s secret porridge recipe. Here.” Harry summoned the tray and placed it on his lap. “I’ll feed you.”

“I’m not letting you feed me porridge,” Draco said, his face twisting in disgust.

“Is it the porridge you’re opposed to or me feeding it to you?”

Draco didn’t answer but clutched the corners of the blankets tighter around him.

“Come on, you have to eat something. And you’re shivering so much, I think you will drop the spoon as soon as I hand it to you. Let me feed you.” Harry held out the spoon in front of Draco’s mouth with no sign of cooperation from his boyfriend. “Draco, come on. Just let me feed you. You know, it would be kind of cute, too.”

“Cute,” Draco repeated, a disgusted look on his face.

“Yeah. Now that I think about it, it’s nice to have someone I can take care of.”

Draco seemed to ponder this for a moment before hesitantly opening his mouth and accepting the spoonful of porridge.

“What else would that entail? You taking care of… me?”

Harry’s face split into a grin as he offered Draco more porridge.

“Well, I guess that would depend.”

“Depend on what?” Draco asked, slowly taking another bite.

“On the circumstances. For example, if you were sick, I’d definitely want to keep cooking for you. And after you finished eating we could go upstairs and I could hold you and warm you until you stopped shivering. We could take a hot bath together. I’d make you some tea, get your favourite biscuits and I could give you a massage if you feel like it. But since you’re not sick…” Harry peered at his boyfriend from under his lashes and held back a snicker.

“Well,” Draco began quietly. “Maybe… Maybe I am a little sick.”

“Sure, just a little,” Harry laughed, putting the porridge aside and gently pulled Draco into his arms.


	22. Chapter 22

Obsession

 

“No, no, not this one!”

Harry watched as his flatmate rushed over to the kitchen cabinet and wrenched the mug Blaise was holding out of his hands.

“What’s wrong with this one?” Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow. Draco bit his lip, while cradling the mug like it was his most prized possession.

“You just can’t use this one, okay?” he snapped. “What if you break it?”

Harry silently sipped his tea as the two Slytherins in his kitchen started bickering.  
  
”No, not that one either!”  
  
It wasn’t exactly unusual behaviour. And Harry was used to it by now. He and Draco had been flatmates for over a year and Draco always seemed a bit touchy about his things. Curiously enough, he never snapped at Harry about it. Only at his friends. And Harry’s friends.

“You’re being a brat, Draco,” Blaise muttered. “I just want some tea but apparently that is too much to ask.”

“Here, you can take this one,” Draco announced, pointing to the only mug left in the cabinet. “I don’t care much for that one anyway.”

“Hey! I gave you that one!” Pansy entered the kitchen with a scowl on her face. Draco just shrugged, flicked his wand once to set the kettle on the stove and to send the mugs flying back into the cabinet.

“You’re spoiling him,” Blaise said to Harry, sitting down at the table opposite of him.

“What? What do I have to do with any of this?” Harry protested.

“You’re spoiling him,” Blaise repeated. “You’re allowing this… this behaviour.”

“Allowing?” Harry echoed. “Excuse me, but what exactly do you think we are doing here? We’re just flatmates. I’m not the boss of him.”

“He most certainly isn’t,” Draco chimed in, plopping down on the chair next to Harry.

“Right,” Pansy snorted. “Say, Potter, have you fought with Draco since you moved in together? I mean a real, full-on fight .”

Harry thought about it for a second, an obvious ‘Yes’ on the tip of his tongue. But the more he thought about it, the more he realised they hadn’t had a big fight at all. Sure, they had argued about a few things here and there but it had been nothing like their fights in school.

Pansy seemed to take Harry’s silence as the answer she had been expecting and smirked.

“See? You have Draco wrapped around your little finger,” she said in a sing-song voice.

“Pansy, will you shut up?” Draco growled. “That is preposterous.”

“Oh, is it?” Blaise grinned.

Draco ignored him and went over to the stove to prepare their tea. While the blond was out of earshot, Blaise leaned closer to Harry.

“You really shouldn’t encourage his OCD.”

“OCD?” Harry’s eyes widened.

“Obsessive-compulsive-”

“I know what it means,” Harry interrupted Pansy. “Draco doesn’t have OCD.”

Pansy and Blaise exchanged meaningful looks before turning their attention back to Harry.

“You can’t deny he’s totally obsessed with you,” Pansy smirked.

“And you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed how he freaks out whenever something isn’t in the place he’s intended it to,” Blaise remarked.

Harry frowned, not sure he had noticed.

“You really are thick, Potter,” Blaise sighed. He looked around the room until he spotted something on the shelf. With one nod of his head, the clock he had fixed his eyes on flew across the room and landed on one of the windowsills. Grinning to himself, Blaise leaned back in his seat and winked at Harry.

“Now just wait and observe.”

“He’s not going to freak out,” Harry insisted.

He watched Draco closely as he returned to the table, levitating three mugs in front of him. When Blaise made a grab for the dark red one, Draco slapped his hand away.

“I told you, not that one. That’s mine.”

Blaise rolled his eyes and took the white one, hovering beside his head.

“What’s so special about the red one?” he muttered darkly.

“I bought that a month after we moved here. It makes me think of Ha-” Draco stopped abruptly, his body going rigid. “Um… Halloween! It makes me think of Halloween!”

Blaise and Pansy started snickering, elbowing each other. Harry wasn’t sure what was going on.

“Yeah, of course it would have such a special meaning to you, if it reminds you of _Ha-lloween_ ,” Blaise said teasingly.

Draco quickly looked away, wrinkling his eyebrows.

“Shut up, Blaise, you- Hey! What is the clock doing on the windowsill? That’s not where it’s supposed to be!” He whirled around in his seat. “Which one of you two did it?” he said, zeroing in on his Slytherin friends.

“What makes you think we did it?” Pansy said, her tone as sweet as sugar.

“Harry would never do something like that,” Draco announced decisively. Harry blinked at that.

“Never mind who did it,” Blaise said with a dismissive gesture. “The question is, can you leave it there? I bet you can’t.”

Draco bit his lip. Harry saw that his right hand was twitching. He obviously didn’t want to leave it there but he probably wanted to prove to Blaise that he was wrong.

“Come on, stop being so childish,” Harry murmured to Blaise and levitated the clock back to its original place on the shelf. Draco let out a little sigh of relief and gave Harry a grateful look.

“See, Blaise, this is why he’s my flatmate, not you,” Draco snapped.

“Sure, that’s the only reason,” Blaise snorted. His eyes wandered over to Harry, scrutinising him. “I really have no idea how you put up with him.”

Harry barked out a laugh and shook his head.

“He’s a great flatmate. It’s always clean, I never have to worry about the fridge being empty, he always makes sure I have my favourite tea… One time, he yelled at a salesperson because they didn’t have it in stock.” Harry chuckled to himself while Draco slid down in his seat, looking slightly embarrassed. “I thought it was rather sweet. I mean, sure he has a few quirks. He always insists I use the blanket he got for me when I’m on the sofa, although we have, like, five. But I don’t mind. It’s a nice blanket. It has little Snitches on it. Sometimes he massages my shoulders, but he never lets me reciprocate. I keep telling him I’m not as clumsy as I was at school but I guess he doesn’t believe me.”

Harry was so lost in thought, he didn’t notice the raised eyebrows, the looks the Slytherins were giving him or the way Draco had turned beet red.

“Oh, and I have to be at home on Thursdays by seven o’clock, because he cooks dinner and doesn’t like it when I’m late. But, I mean, the one time I was late was only because there were so many people in the pastry shop when I wanted to pick up these little cupcakes Draco likes so much.” When Harry’s words were only met with silence, he finally looked up and realised he had been babbling. “Oh, I’m sorry, Draco, I didn’t mean to-”

“So,” Pansy said, drumming her perfectly manicured fingers on the table. “How long have you two been secretly dating? And why didn’t you tell us?”  

Harry’s mouth fell open as he gaped at Pansy.

“What?” he spluttered.

“We’re not dating,” Draco muttered darkly. “If we were dating, we would be kissing and… stuff.”

This time, Harry didn’t miss the undertone in Draco’s voice, although he wasn’t exactly sure how to interpret it.

“Do you want us to kiss and… stuff?”

The kitchen went completely silent as three pairs of eyes fixed on Draco, who kept staring at the mug in his hands.

“I… um… Well, I guess I wouldn’t be completely… Um, that is to say, I-”

“Hold on, is that why you wouldn’t come out of your room for a week, after I told you about that date I had with a Muggle a few months ago?”

Draco didn’t answer but kept staring at his mug.

“Oh, is that why you haven’t been dating at all while we have been living together?” Harry thought about other signs there might have been that hadn’t seemed strange at the time. Wait, there was one thing that had seemed very strange. “Oh my God, is that why all the towels seem to magically disappear from time to time when I come out of the shower?”

Draco let his head fall back and made a strangled noise, while Blaise and Pansy keeled over with laughter.

Harry ignored them and got out of his seat, never taking his eyes off Draco. He pulled the Slytherin into a standing position in front of him and gently cupped his cheek.

“Won’t you look at me?” Harry whispered. Draco’s eyes darted up to his, glimmering with apprehension. Harry stepped closer until their chests were touching, placing his other hand on Draco’s hip. “I guess we kind of have been dating for a while, haven’t we? I just didn’t realise.”

Draco shivered under Harry’s touch and tentatively brought his hands up to Harry’s shoulders.

“You never were the most observant type,” he murmured, his eyes flickering over Harry’s face. A smile tugged on the corner of Harry’s mouth as he leaned forward. He unconsciously held his breath as he let his lips brush over Draco’s, savouring the warmth and the silky feeling of his mouth. He barely noticed the loud cheers and wolf-whistles behind him.

“Hmmm, I guess I finally understand your obsession with lip balm,” Harry breathed amusedly. He stroked Draco’s cheek with his thumb and brought their foreheads together, suddenly feeling really dizzy.

“You know, I have an obsession with really, really soft and comfortable beds as well,” Draco said, wiggling his eyebrows and leaning in to kiss Harry once more.

When they broke apart several minutes later, Harry’s heart skipped a beat and he was sure he had never seen anything more beautiful. The way Draco was looking at him almost made him topple over. This was how he wanted Draco to look at him from now on, with the biggest smile on his face Harry had ever seen.  


	23. Chapter 23

Alone

 

“Hello, Potter.” Malfoy didn’t look up from his book as Harry came to a halt in front of him.

“I want to talk to you,” Harry said resolutely.

“Goodbye, Potter,” Malfoy said, his eyes still on his book. It didn’t stop Harry from sitting down next to him on the sofa.

“I’ve been watching you these past days,” Harry said, lowering his voice. Draco snorted.

“Of course you have.”

“And I noticed something,” Harry continued, ignoring Malfoy’s comment. “You’re always alone.” Harry watched as a hint of annoyance flickered over the Slytherin’s face.

“Is that so?” If Malfoy felt caught, he didn’t let it show. He was the picture of calmness and indifference.

“Why aren’t you with your Slytherin friends anymore? Are you avoiding them? Are they avoiding you? Are they giving you a hard time?” Harry couldn’t imagine why they would do something like that or why Draco would be the one avoiding them but he knew something was going on.

“You sure ask many questions, Potter,” Malfoy muttered, turning a page of his book.

“And you didn’t answer any of them, Malfoy.” Harry leaned closer to him but didn’t try to take the book out of his hands. He really wasn’t in the mood to fight. “Why are you always alone? The common room is full of people and yet you decided to sit here, far away from everyone.”

“And I was perfectly content until you showed up.” Malfoy didn’t exactly sound menacing but Harry knew he would probably snap soon.

“I don’t believe you.” Harry was aware that he was already invading Malfoy’s private space but he still leaned in a little closer. “Look, some of the other eighth years have started a group. They meet a few times a week and they… talk. About what happened to them in the war and how they are… coping with it.”

Harry jumped when Malfoy slammed his book shut in front of Harry’s nose and turned to him.

“Potter,” he barked. “I don’t know how to get it into your thick head that I don’t want to talk. About anything. I don’t even know what you’re doing here. You have plenty people to talk to, so why do you insist on pestering me?” His eyes wandered about the room as if he were looking for something. “Where is the rest of your little trio anyway?”

“They’re… busy,” Harry said vaguely. Malfoy snorted and Harry suspected he knew exactly what Harry had implied.

“Then go talk to somebody else, Potter.”

“I don’t want to.”

Malfoy let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You really don’t get it, do you? I’d like to be alone.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t believe you.” He watched as Malfoy let his head fall back and closed his eyes.

“So you’ve told me,” Malfoy muttered.

“I think you secretly like that I’m sitting here with you.” His eyes scanned Malfoy’s face, waiting for something that would tell him he was right. “And I think you’d also like it if I did this.” He reached out and grabbed Malfoy’s hand. He leaned forward while simultaneously tugging Malfoy toward him.

He closed his eyes as his lips brushed Malfoy’s temple. He had thought about doing this for so long, it almost felt unreal.

“And maybe you’d even like it if I did this,” Harry whispered against Malfoy’s skin as he slid down on the sofa, swung his legs on Malfoy’s lap and laid his head on the Slytherin’s shoulder.

When Malfoy gave no reaction whatsoever, Harry moved his head to look at him. He had finally done it. Draco Malfoy was rendered speechless. Or was he shocked? Disgusted? Harry couldn’t tell.

“Okay, maybe you don’t like it,” Harry said, getting more and more uncomfortable by Malfoy’s blank stare. He tried to get up, rather inelegantly, when Malfoy suddenly placed a hand on his chest.

“Wait.”

Harry looked at him, having no clue what to make of the tortured expression on his face.

“I like to be alone,” he muttered. Harry’s heart sank.

“Oh.”

“But…” Malfoy gulped. “I guess…I would rather be alone with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspiration](https://itallstartedwithakiss.tumblr.com/post/165091216749)


	24. Chapter 24

No

 

“Hey, Draco?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you do it?”

Harry keeps his gaze on the stars as he waits for Draco to answer. The sky is so clear tonight and the grass smells of late summer. Crickets are chirping in the distance and it is the only sound interrupting the long and heavy silence.

“Why did you do it?” Harry repeats. He hears Draco exhale loudly and shift beside him.

“I thought it was the right thing to do.”

Harry’s head whips around.

“Why?”

Draco snorts.

“I think the reasons are pretty obvious.”

Harry studies him, momentarily mesmerised by the way the gentle breeze caresses his blond locks.

“Tell me,” he insists. Draco sighs and closes his eyes.

“You really want me to say out loud that I didn’t think I was good enough?”

Harry bites his lip and turns his gaze back to the stars.

“You know that’s not true,” he murmurs. Draco sighs again.

“I really don’t want to talk about this anymore. I came back, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.” Harry frowns. “But you left. You left me without telling-”

“I just said I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought you were better off without me.”

“That’s rubbish.” Harry knows he can’t change Draco’s mind when he’s in this mood. They had talked about this a lot. Draco still felt guilty about his role in the war. If the roles were reversed, Harry would probably feel the same. Draco had gaped at him when Harry had said this to him one night.

“But you never would have done the things I did,” Draco had replied.

“I would have. If my parents were still alive or somebody would have threatened the Weasleys-”

“No,” Draco had interrupted him, “you would have still seen the bigger picture.”

Looking back, Harry thought he should have been more persistent. Maybe Draco would have seen that Harry understood. Yes, there were a few things even he couldn’t just ignore, no matter how much he liked Draco. But he had been willing to work through it. It had wounded him deeply when Draco had just left.

“What changed your mind then? Why did you come back?”

“I guess I just can’t stay away from you,” Draco says, his voice low.

There is a long pause after that, in which Harry isn’t sure what to say to comfort Draco. Without looking, he fumbles around in the grass until his fingers brush against Draco’s hand. He grabs it and squeezes it.

“Do you believe me when I say you’re forgiven?”

Draco doesn’t answer but Harry can hear the unspoken “No” loud and clear.

“Do you think you can forgive yourself?”

No answer.

“Do you think we can make it through this?”

No answer. Harry bites the inside of his cheek and tightens his grip around Draco’s hand.

“Do you think it’s better if we stopped… this?”

Harry’s heart is beating fast as the silence stretches between them.

“No.”

Harry peeks sideways and sees Draco smiling at him. It’s a hesitant smile, almost a sad one. But it is a smile.  

Relief floods through him. He knows it isn’t as easy as that. He knows there’s is still much to do and talk about. But hopefully, this time, Draco will be there with him.

“Okay then,” he says and smiles back.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by... well, me being one of the people who are still not over the fact that *that* scene didn't make it into the movies :D AND there's also [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=czghb8RB-eE) \- one of the most drarry songs I have ever heard!! Yes, it was originally sung by the Backstreet Boys, but please, give it a listen! ;)

Risking it all in a glance

 

“Draco… Draco.”  
  
His father’s voice sounded strained, almost like a scared whisper. He hesitantly stretched out his arm, his hand balled into a fist. Draco swallowed hard as several heads turned towards him, watched him. He was sure they all expected him to walk across the courtyard without hesitation. It was where he belonged after all.  
  
All these years he had done as his father had said. He hadn’t defied him once. But now, everything in him screamed to stay where he was, not to go to his father. It came too late. What was the point in defying him now?  
  
Harry Potter was dead. There was no hope left.  
  
“Draco.”  
  
Draco’s eyes darted to his mother. Her voice rang through him and immediately found its way to his heart, squeezing it violently. She took a step forward, smiling at him almost sadly.  
  
“Come.”  
  
Hesitating only a second longer, Draco started moving, his head bowed. He didn’t dare to look anyone in the eye.  
  
Harry Potter was dead. What was the point in fighting?  
  
Draco’s body went rigid when the Dark Lord enveloped him in his arms.  
  
“Well done, Draco,” he whispered into his ear. Draco thought he was going to be sick. Silently, he made his way to his parents, avoiding his father’s waiting arms and grasping his mother’s hand instead.  
  
He tried to suppress a sob when his eyes fell on Potter’s lifeless body, held tight by the half-giant. It made him want to scream, to sink to his knees and beg the heavens to return him. What were they supposed to do without Potter now? What was Draco supposed to do without him?  
  
For the rest of his life, he would be haunted by the knowledge that the last time he had seen Harry Potter alive, the Gryffindor had saved his life, had saved him from the Fiendfyre. And what had Draco done? He had simply grabbed his wand when it had fallen out of Potter’s hand and had made a run for it.  
  
His hand tightened around the wood, making his knuckles go white. It didn’t even feel like his wand anymore. It only reminded him of what he had done. It disgusted him.  
  
He could barely listen as Longbottom stepped forward and told them it didn’t matter that Potter was dead. His heart gave another violent squeeze. He wished he could go back in time. Draco doubted it was in his power to save Potter, but he should have at least told him that he… that he…  
  
Draco saw something sparkly out of the corner of his eyes when suddenly chaos erupted. Longbottom was holding something; it looked like a sword. Draco looked around, taking in the shocked faces of the Death Eaters. That’s when he finally saw it; Potter, jumping out of the half-giant’s arms. In this mere second, Draco’s whole world shifted. It was as if time was standing still. Potter was crouching on the ground, his face full of determination.  
  
Draco’s mind was completely blank. He didn’t think, he didn’t question it when his feet started moving of their own accord.  
  
“Potter!” His voice was choked, desperate. The feeling only intensified when their eyes met. Draco hadn’t thought he’d ever see those eyes again. It made him shiver. He didn’t think about repercussions, about what his parents would say, what the Dark Lord might do to him. How could he, when Harry Potter was alive?  
  
Without a moment’s hesitation, he lifted his arm above his head and threw his wand with all his might. His heart hammered wildly against his chest as he watched Potter catch it mid-air.  
  
They were saved. He was saved.  
  
Even though relief flooded through him, at this point, Draco really didn’t care what happened to him anymore. He had experienced what it meant to lose  nearly everything.  
  
Harry Potter was alive and that was all that mattered.

 

* * *

 

It was quick, fleeting, but it made Harry stop dead, the air completely knocked out of his lungs. Grey eyes, hesitant, sad, locked with his.

Someone bumped into him, breaking the eye contact. Harry whirled around, the shopping bag in his hand hitting the wizard beside him in the back.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled. He quickly turned his head back down Diagon Alley, searching for grey eyes but there were just too many people.

Gripped by a sudden frenzy, he tore through the crowd, craning his neck. Several people were swearing and shouting at him but Harry didn’t care. He pushed his way through them, his thoughts only on…

“Malfoy,” he breathed when he finally spotted white-blond hair disappearing behind a corner. Harry hurried after him, his heartbeat picking up when he saw him standing in front of a shop window. Thankfully, this part of Diagon Alley wasn’t as crowded, so no one bumped into him anymore as Harry approached Malfoy slowly.

Malfoy’s head turned when Harry came to a halt beside him, his eyes going wide. Neither of them spoke. They hadn’t seen in each other in almost a year. Harry had no idea what to say. He hadn’t thought about that when had chased after Malfoy. He had only thought about seeing him again. The need to see him again.

This need had intensified over the last few months. After everything had settled down and Harry had had time to think about everything that had happened, his mind had inadvertently gone back to Malfoy every single time Harry had wondered what he should do about Ginny.

Harry hadn’t been sure if it was strange that he didn’t feel the urge to get back together with her. He wasn’t sure if that was due to everything he had gone through or if it was something else. Because he did feel something else. Something he had been feeling for a while but hadn’t been able to put his finger on. Maybe he even had been deluding himself, not wanting to admit his own feelings.

Getting back together with Ginny would probably have been the easy thing to do. He still loved her, that was out of the question, but it wasn’t the same anymore. And he couldn’t just ignore that.

On the other hand, these other feelings were so confusing. Because how could he have feelings for someone who had done so many terrible things? Who had been his enemy, who had served Voldemort…

Someone who had betrayed Voldemort to help him.

It didn’t eradicate all the terrible things Malfoy had done but it was the most significant to Harry. Because it showed Malfoy had chosen the right side in the end. And he had risked everything in doing so, hadn’t he?

Harry didn’t want to go as far as presuming Malfoy had only done it for him. They had been in the middle of a war; maybe he simply hadn’t wanted to be in Harry’s debt after the Fiendfyre.

The Fiendfyre. That had been the most confusing thing. Of course he couldn’t have let Malfoy die in there. Of course. But he had felt so desperate to save him, his chest aching at the thought of not gripping his hand in time.

And when Harry had made his way down to the Forbidden Forest, grey eyes had suddenly appeared in the back of his mind, amidst all the other faces Harry was picturing one last time. And it had made him wonder, if things would have been different…

He had asked himself what could have happened a lot since then. Maybe he was stupid for thinking that, about to make a fool of himself, but Harry was tired of wondering ‘what if’ and questioning everything.

Plucking up all his Gryffindor courage, he stepped closer and slowly put a hand on Malfoy’s shoulder. He watched as the blond’s blank expression turned into puzzlement and then incredulity. When Harry tentatively started stroking his neck with his tumb, Malfoy’s eyes found his again. They were the same eyes that had stared at him through the Fiendfyre. The same eyes that had locked with his, right before he had tossed Harry his wand. And yet, they were so different. Good different.

Feeling like he might combust any second, Harry willed his pulse to slow down as he tried to put everything he wanted to say to Malfoy into the smile that was slowly forming on his lips.

What he wanted to say the most was that even if they had been awful to each other in school, even if they had been on opposing ends in the war, even if it had taken Harry years to realise it, if there was a chance Malfoy felt the same as Harry, everything would have been worth it.

Of course, there was no way Malfoy could get all that from a smile but, against everything Harry feared at this moment, Malfoy slowly put a hand over Harry’s, gently closing his fingers around it, and smiled back.


	26. Chapter 26

Sleep tight

 

“This is ridiculous!”

For once in his life, Harry heartily agreed with Malfoy. This really was ridiculous. What was Dumbledore thinking? True, things had gone a bit out of hand after the last Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin but that didn’t justify… this!

“How am I supposed to concentrate on my O.W.L.s when I have to put up with a bunch of pillocks?!”

“Stop complaining, Malfoy. It won’t change anything,” Terry Boot called from across the dorm. Their newly shared dorm. One student from each house, that was the new rule. Dumbledore had announced it two weeks ago and Harry’s only consolation was that he was still in Gryffindor tower, in his own bed, while the other Gryffindors had moved into other dorms.

Harry still wasn’t convinced this would do anything for house unity. So far, Malfoy had picked a fight with Terry every time they were in the same room and he had even tried to hex Justin Finch-Fletchley once. As much as it annoyed Harry, at least it diverted Malfoy’s attention away from him. He really wasn’t in the mood to fight. He missed Ron. Seeing him in classes but not sharing a dorm just wasn’t the same.

“Potter! Get your filthy Quidditch robes away from my bed,” Malfoy growled, nudging the red and gold robes on the floor with his foot. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Will you relax? They’re nowhere near your bed,” Harry said exasperatedly.

“They are on my side of the room. Have you forgotten everything I told you about boundaries?” Malfoy fumed, drawing an invisible line between their beds with his hand, as he had done on their first day as dormmates.

Harry heard Terry snort.

“You’re one to talk,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that”? Malfoy whirled around and gave Terry a dangerous look. Harry expected them to have another shouting match but Terry just shook his head and waved a dismissive hand in the air.

“If you have something to say, just say it!” Malfoy approached Terry, his hands on his hips.

“You of all people do not want me to say this out loud, believe me,” Terry said unblinking. Malfoy scrutinised him and Harry noticed a strange expression flicker across his face. “Unless you want to explain why these boundaries don’t seem to apply to you. Especially-”

“Are you trying to blackmail me? With something that you clearly imagined?” Malfoy interrupted him. His body was rigid and his face was inches away from Terry’s. The Ravenclaw smirked, his eyes darting over to Harry and then back to Malfoy.

“You know, Malfoy,” Terry said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, a smug expression on his face. “I always suspected you’d feel right at home in the Gryffindor dorms but I had no idea you’d get that cosy.”

Harry reacted on instinct when he saw Malfoy draw his wand. He grabbed his own from the nightstand and pointed it at Malfoy.

“Expelliarmus,” he yelled. Malfoy’s wand flew across the room and Harry caught it with his free hand. “Seriously, Malfoy? What is wrong with you?” Harry watched as Malfoy’s shoulders slightly slumped. Without another word he stormed out of the dorm, slamming the door behind him.

“What was that all about?” Harry murmured. He gave Terry a puzzled look. The Ravenclaw just sighed.

“Honestly, I don’t want to get in the middle of this, but Malfoy just… ugh!” Terry stomped his foot once and shook his head. “It’s really between the two of you.”

“The two of us?” Harry couldn’t imagine a scenario in which he and Malfoy could be referred to as ‘the two of you’. All he and Malfoy ever did was fight. Or ignore each other. Well, pretend to ignore each other would probably be more accurate.

“I really don’t want to be hexed in my sleep,” Terry groaned. “But… maybe try to be a bit more alert tonight, Harry. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, completely at loss.

“Okay,” he mumbled, wondering what on earth Terry was on about.

* * *

Draco sighed as he leaned his head against Harry’s nightstand. It really wasn’t fair. He watched as Harry’s chest rose and fell steadily, his face looking softer than ever in the moonlight. Why did he have to be so beautiful? Slowly, his fingers rose to Harry’s forehead to brush his bangs out of his face. He looked so peaceful.

It really wasn’t Draco’s fault he stayed up night after night to watch Harry sleep like a total creep. The first time it had happened, Draco had been wakened by a soft whimper. Investigating it further, he had seen Harry all sweaty and thrashing in his bed. Draco had intended to wake him, but as soon as he had leaned down, Harry had grabbed him and had pulled him down.

At first, Draco hadn’t been sure if Harry was awake or still asleep. He had gone very still when Harry had clutched at him until he had finally wrapped him in his arms and had almost strangled Draco. His face had been pressed against Harry’s chest, the Gryffindor’s heartbeat drumming against his cheek. It had been the most amazing thing Draco had ever felt.

He hadn’t dared to fall asleep that night. Seeing as Harry had finally calmed down with Draco in his arms, Draco had supposed it would be better to stay there until dawn. With Harry being restless in the bed beside him, he wouldn’t have gotten much sleep anyway.

After that, Draco had made a habit of watching Harry sleep. His touch seemed to calm the Gryffindor whenever he seemed to have a bad dream. But he hadn’t pulled Draco into his bed again. Draco didn’t want to admit to himself that he was secretly waiting for it to happen once more but he found himself leaning closer to his so-called enemy with every passing night.

As his fingers continued to stroke the soft curls, he frowned. No, Harry wasn’t his enemy at night. During the day, Draco kept up his snarky attitude and his animosity. But at night, there was no need for that. At night, he could simply stare at the boy who made his heart beat faster, who made his scalp prickle and who was responsible for the smile Draco had to hide once dawn was breaking.

Sometimes, Draco wished he didn’t have to hide it, could show it openly and let the stupid git know.

It really wasn’t fair.

* * *

Harry held his breath when he felt Malfoy’s fingers brush his ear. His heartbeat picked up instantly and he was pretty sure he was blushing. His cheeks suddenly felt really hot, as did the rest of his body. 

What was Malfoy doing? The way he was touching him was so tender and affectionate. Harry wouldn’t have believed it was Malfoy if he hadn’t forced himself to stay awake to try and find out what Terry had been talking about. This was not what he had expected! 

When Malfoy’s fingers slowly trailed down Harry’s cheek and brushed his neck, he had to control himself really hard not to shiver and to open his eyes. It was kind of odd. Malfoy’s touch set his whole body on fire and yet… it somehow felt… familiar?

_Wait a second._ Harry hoped Malfoy didn’t notice he was awake when Harry visibly gulped. He thought hard about the last few nights and the strange dreams he’d had. Every time the darkness had threatened to swallow him and every time that cold feeling of desperation had started to rise in him, it had somehow vanished. He had instead dreamed of soft hands cupping his cheeks, tentative fingers brushing through his hair and a warm body, pressed against his. _So… that… hadn’t been dreams?_

In his astonishment, Harry accidentally made a strange gurgling sound. Malfoy reacted at once.

“Shhhh.” He leaned closer, cradling Harry’s head. Harry had to admit, it felt nice. Really nice. He suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about the dream  (or rather the memory) of having someone (apparently Malfoy) in his arms. 

Malfoy still thought he was asleep, right? And he didn’t seem too aversed to sleeping in Harry’s bed. So maybe… if he just…

Malfoy didn’t even seem that surprised when Harry grabbed the collar of his pyjama and pulled him down onto the bed; in one fluid, elegant movement, Malfoy was suddenly under the covers, his arms around Harry.

His pyjama felt soft against Harry’s cheek. It was probably made out of silk. But as soft as the fabric felt, it was nothing compared to Malfoy’s hands; one was buried in Harry’s hair, at the back of his neck, the other firmly placed on the small of his back. Harry hadn’t thought anything could feel that good.

Acting as if he was just moving in his sleep, Harry pressed himself closer to Malfoy, wriggling his head, so it was snug in the crook of Malfoy’s neck. Merlin, he smelled delicious! Harry wasn’t sure he would be able to sleep like this but, he had to admit, he felt oddly secure and very comfortable. Something, he had never expected to feel in the arms of Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Draco frowned as something tickled his nose. When he opened his eyes, he blinked against the harsh sunlight. Was it morning already? It felt like he had barely slept! When something suddenly moved against him, his body froze. _Oh no!_ Damn it, he had completely overslept, hadn’t he? He was still in Harry’s bed, his arms wrapped tightly around the Gryffindor. How the hell was he supposed to get to his own bed unnoticed now? Well, he had to try somehow.

As soon as Draco tried to pull his arm from under Harry, the mop of black hair moved. Green eyes found his and Draco mentally cursed. For a moment, Harry seemed as shocked as he was. Draco was even more surprised, when a small smile started to form on the other boy’s lips.

“Hi,” Harry breathed. Draco just stared at him. He must still be half asleep. There was no way Harry would be looking at him like that, after discovering Draco had spent the night in his bed, holding him like a stuffed animal. Maybe he’d think he was still dreaming if Draco just went to his own bed now.

But before he could free his arms, Harry moved closer to him. No, he didn’t just move closer, he snuggled up to him. Draco’s mind went completely blank.

“Don’t go, yet,” Harry murmured against Draco’s chest. “Can’t we stay like this a little longer?” Draco found himself unable to answer, which, apparently, wasn’t that big of a problem. Harry seemed to take his silence as a ‘yes’ and sighed contentedly into Draco’s chest. Okay, as shocked as he was, this was definitely something Draco could live with.

“Oi, what do you think you’re doing?”

Draco whirled around, almost falling out of Harry’s bed. Terry had propped himself up on his elbows and was staring at them, wide-eyed.

“I- um… That’s-”

“Relax, Terry,” Harry mumbled sleepily. “We’re still fully clothed.”

Draco felt his cheeks burn up as his eyes darted from Terry to Harry.

“Sweet Merlin, you better be,” Terry groaned. “No one in this dorm will be naked while others are present in the room, understood?” Terry’s voice sounded much higher than normal.

“For Merlin’s sake, will you guys shut up?” Justin moaned from under his covers. “Some of us are trying to sleep here!”

“Gladly,” Harry snickered, pulling Draco towards him again. The Slytherin still hadn’t recovered from his initial shock, his body still rigid.

“I can’t believe you’re okay with this,” he croaked. Harry smiled, tracing the line of his jaw with his fingers.

“I’ll admit, it is a little odd.” He paused on Draco’s chin, brushing his thumb against Draco’s lower lip. “But I guess, against my better judgement, there’s no other weirdo I’d rather have in my bed.”

“Excuse me! POTTER! You-”

A pillow hit him in the back of his head, right before Justin groaned, “Malfoy, just SHUT UP!”

Harry chuckled at Draco’s, probably, baffled expression. His fingers continued to caress his chin, his eyes darting down to his mouth.

“Yeah, Malfoy,” he whispered and suddenly, his lips were softly brushing Draco’s. “Just shut up.”


	27. Chapter 27

Quit playing games

 

“Are you going to eat that?”

Draco frowned but shook his head and pushed his plate across the table. Potter attacked it as if he hadn’t just stuffed his face with three servings of scrambled eggs and croissants.

“Thanks,” he said, beaming at Draco. Clearing his throat, Draco had to look away, otherwise Potter might have noticed how pink his cheeks had suddenly gotten. He really didn’t understand Potter. He didn’t understand this whole strange situation they were in. Who would have thought he and Potter would become the kind of friends who would meet on Sundays _for brunch_? As much as Draco had always fantasised about becoming friends with him, this was an unexpected outcome. But not as unexpected as what had happened a few days ago…

_“Potter, I think you’ve had enough to drink.”_

_“Dracoooooo! Don’t be such a drag!”_

_Draco blinked, the sound of his own name still ringing in his ears. Was this the first time Potter had said his given name to his face? Draco hated how much he enjoyed it. Watching Potter sway as he tried to make his way to the bar, Draco grabbed his arm._

_“No more drinks for you,” he said resolutely._

_“Dracoooo.” Potter knitted his brows together and started pouting. He actually pouted. Draco felt like he was going to faint._

_“No, you’ve had enough.” His eyes darted down to Potter’s mouth. His lower lip was trembling and Draco wished he could stop the trembling by softly biting into it. “This won’t work on me,” he said, mentally cursing his voice for sounding so unsteady._

_“Are you sure?” Potter said, his mouth stretching into a smile. “Then maybe this will!” With childish enthusiasm, Potter threw his arms around Draco’s neck. Their bodies were suddenly flush against each other._

_“What are you-?” Before Draco could finish his question, Potter’s lips were on his, moving slowly and softly. Draco was too stunned to push him away. And honestly, he didn’t want to. Potter was kissing him! And the way he was kissing him… He didn’t seem as drunk as Draco had thought. Or maybe, he was just an exceptionally good kisser._

_Against his better judgement, Draco closed his eyes and tentatively placed his hands on Potter’s hips. Potter let out a deep sigh that send a delicious shiver down Draco’s spine. But wait… this wasn’t right. Potter wasn’t in his right mind._

_Reluctantly, Draco detached his lips from Potter’s and stared at him. He was not prepared for the sight that met him. Potter was gazing at him dreamily, a wide smile plastered on his face._

_“See? I know it would work on you,” he mumbled, before his head collapsed on Draco’s shoulder. The added weight, from Potter going completely limp in his arms, made Draco stumble._

_“What in Merlin’s name was that?”_

Draco had asked himself that question a lot over the last couple of days. He still had no idea. Potter had acted like nothing had happened when they had seen each other again. Maybe he didn’t remember. But something was definitely off; Potter kept finding excuses to touch Draco in seemingly innocent ways and whenever he thought Draco wasn’t paying attention, he kept giving him _these_ _looks_.

At first, Draco had thought he was just imagining things, but it kept happening and it left Draco confused and frustrated. What was Potter doing?

“Hey, I thought we could go to the movies tonight,” Potter said, completely nonchalant.

“The movies,” Draco repeated flatly.

“Yeah, you know, the Muggle-”

“I know what it is,” Draco snapped. He took a sip of his coffee and slammed the cup back down on the saucer.

“Is that a no?” Potter asked. Draco looked away, not sure what to say. As much as he enjoyed spending time with him, the way Potter was behaving made everything so hard. Draco wasn’t sure he could do it for much longer without exploding. Maybe it would be better to pause this friendship thing for a little bit. When his eyes found Potter’s again, his mouth opened involuntarily. Potter’s eyes were piercing and there was an odd expression on his face.

“Hold on, you’ve got some crumbs-” He leaned over the table, his hand outstretched. Draco blinked as Potter’s fingers brushed the corner of his mouth. They definitely lingered there longer than necessary. This was it! Draco had enough of this teasing.

Slamming his hands down on the table, he pushed himself out of his seat and stormed out of the café. What did Potter think they were doing? He acted like they were just friends, _just friends_ , and then he did something _like that_. Seriously, it was all Potter’s fault. If the git hadn’t kissed him-

“Draco!”

Draco stopped in his tracks, a warm feeling spreading inside his chest. _Stupid, stupid!_ He shouldn’t be feeling that way.

“Draco, wait!” Potter caught up to him, grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him around. “What’s going on? Why did you just leave like that?”

Draco scowled at his feet, not wanting to look Potter in the eyes.

“Is it something I did?” Potter asked, sounding genuinely unsure. Draco snorted. “What is it? Talk to me?” Potter lowered his head to catch Draco’s eyes and Draco suddenly felt fingers brushing the hair out of his face.

“This! This!!” Slapping his hand away, Draco finally looked up. “You’ve got to stop doing that!”

Potter looked shocked. He clearly hadn’t expected such an outburst.

“You can’t just do that all the time. Touch me like that.”

Draco watched as Potter’s face fell. He bit his lip and started wringing his hands.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it made you that uncomfortable.”

Wait, why did Potter look so crestfallen? That didn’t make any sense.

“It does,” Draco said through gritted teeth. “It would be much easier if you could be… a little more decisive.” Draco really didn’t want to have this conversation. He was pretty sure he’d just end up humiliating himself. And maybe, it would even mean the end of his friendship with Potter.

“What do you mean, more decisive?”

Draco sighed. Maybe his friendship with Potter was already over. Draco couldn’t stand to be around him like this.

“Maybe you behave like that around your friends. I don’t. There’s a line between- It’s not something you just- There’s a difference between-” Draco didn’t know how to explain it to Potter without sounding like a lovesick fool.

“Do you mean- I-… Are you talking about the kiss?” Potter sounded extremely nervous. Draco gaped at him.

“You remember? I thought you didn’t remember.”

“No, I remember,” Potter said quietly.

Draco’s mind reeled.

“Then why- What are you doing? I can’t even tell if that was accidental or not? If you regret it or not? What is this- What are we-”

“I don’t know, okay?” Potter interrupted him. “I don’t know.”

Draco studied him, taking in the insecure expression on his face.

“Even if you don’t know, you can’t just do that to me,” he murmured. “I have no idea what to think anymore.”

Potter bit the inside of his cheeks, before taking a step towards Draco.

“But you like me, right?”

Annoyed, Draco clicked his tongue.

“I’m pretty sure the answer to that is painfully obvious.”

Potter took another step, so that their chests were touching. Reaching for Draco’s hands, he interlaced their fingers and peered up at him from under his lashes.

“Would you…” His voice quivered slightly. “Would you want to kiss me again?”

Draco opened his mouth but no sound came out. Had Potter really just asked him-

“Potter, what are you doing?” he said, almost choking on the words. His eyes darted down when Potter licked his lips in one swift motion. “This is what I’m talking about. You can’t just keep playing these games with me.”

“It’s not a game,” Potter said, his expression turning serious. “I have no idea what I’m doing, okay? I have no idea how to handle… this.” He gave Draco’s hands a squeeze and guided them to the small of his back. “I’ve never fallen for a bloke before. Not like this. And you’re not just any bloke. It’s a little overwhelming, alright?”

Draco was glad Potter had stopped talking. He wasn’t sure if he would have been able to hear anything else over the ringing in his ears.

“Did you just say- You… What?”

Potter laughed, loud and wide. It made Draco weak in the knees.

“Can we please not dwell on this? This is embarrassing enough,” Potter said, pressing his body against Draco’s. “So, you still haven’t answered my question. Would you kiss me again?”

Instead of answering, Draco made a deep gurgling sound at the back of his throat. Before Potter had the chance to comment on it, Draco grabbed his face with both hands and started kissing him like he had wanted to for as long as he could remember.

“I swear to Merlin, if you take back what you just told me and we go back to being friends, I’m going to hex your testicles off,” he growled against Potter’s lips.

“Oh, I think we can make use of them in a much better way,” Potter chuckled, burying his hands in Draco’s hair. Draco groaned. He couldn’t believe this was really happening. After all this time. Finally!


	28. Chapter 28

Perfect

 

“It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Draco rolled his eyes while he brushed his hair out of his face with the back of his hand.

“I’m going to ignore that unhelpful comment.” He narrowed his eyes and examined his work. It really was far from perfect. Why wouldn’t the stupid icing cooperate?

“It looks nice.”

Draco put his hands on his hips, momentarily forgetting they were covered in flour, and scowled.

“Nice,” he repeated. “Thanks, Potter. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear after spending five hours on this thing.”

Potter sighed and put a hand on Draco’s shoulder.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It looks lovely. Well, maybe a bit scary, but… it’s a cute dragon.”

Draco felt his cheeks heat up and he slapped Potter’s hand away.

“It’s not a dragon, you imbecile!”

Potter blinked.

“Oh. Um… it’s a nice… hippogriff?”

“Why would I want it to look like something that nearly killed me?”

This time, it was Potter who rolled his eyes.

“It didn’t. Not even nearly. You really need to get over it.”

Draco snorted and picked up the piping bag. Writing something on the cake with this was so much harder than he had anticipated. And Potter watching him wasn’t exactly helping.

Maybe he shouldn’t have used so many colours to ice the cake. The writing was barely legible. This was such a mess. But he didn’t have time to start over. Frustrated, he threw the piping bag on the table.

“Why am I so bad at this?”

Draco hated being bad at something. Anything.

He felt two arms encircle his hips and Potter’s body pressing against his from behind. He rested his chin on Draco’s shoulder and kissed his cheek.

“Why didn’t you use magic?” he asked timidly.

“ _You_ don’t need magic to do this,” Draco said quietly. “I wanted to do something like that for him, too.”

Potter said nothing to that but squeezed Draco’s hips more tightly.

“When did you become so sentimental?”

“Shut up, Potter,” Draco said and shoved him with his elbow. He glanced at the cake and sighed. “It’s a unicorn,” he said. “Well, it’s supposed to be a unicorn.” He reached inside his pocket and pointed his wand at the cake. Before he could say the incantation, Potter grabbed his hand and lowered it.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m fixing it,” Draco said, turning around to him.

“But you wanted to do this without magic,” Potter pointed out.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that was a complete failure.”

Potter shook his head and cupped Draco’s cheek.

“Draco, it’s his first birthday. He won’t care what it looks like. He’ll probably destroy the cake within seconds as soon as you let him near it.”

“Oh, so you’re saying I did all of this for nothing?” Draco huffed. Potter smiled.

“On the contrary. I’m just saying it doesn’t have to be perfect. It will be perfect for him no matter what.”

Draco snorted, his cheeks getting warm again, but this time, it wasn’t from anger.

“Merlin, you are such a sop!”

Potter grinned at him and kissed the tip of his nose.

“And you like that about me.”

Draco couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, I guess I’m a lost cause.” He paused and looked at the cake again.

“Do you really think he’ll like it?”

“Teddy will love it. And we’ll take lots of pictures, so he’ll always remember his perfect first birthday.”

Draco snorted again.

“Soppy,” he muttered under his breath.

“Good soppy?” Potter asked, winking at him.

Draco chuckled and leaned in to give Potter a swift kiss.

“Good soppy.”


	29. Chapter 29

Sweet and simple

 

When Harry had woken up on the morning of December 7th, he had begun his day as usual. He had hopped in the shower, had eaten his breakfast and had hurried to work. It had been a day like any other. Ordinary. Pretty dull, actually. That was until he had opened the door to Grimmauld Place…

He looked around him, unsure of what to do. He was tempted to go back outside, just to make sure he was in the right house.  
  
“Draco?”

Slowly, he put down his bag and his coat, never taking his eyes off the dozens of candles lit in the living room. There was also soft music playing in the background, which was extremely out of the ordinary. Draco liked to work in silence. And he was always working.

“Draco?” he called again. Still no answer. Warily, Harry tiptoed to the living room. There was a table in the middle of the room that Harry had never seen before. Apparently, Draco had prepared dinner for them. But it wasn’t just dinner. It was a feast. A very posh one, too. And… were those rose petals? Actual rose petals?

“You’re early.”

Harry whirled around and took in the sight of Draco, holding two glasses of champagne. He was wearing the dark green jumper Harry had gotten him a few weeks ago.

“What are we celebrating?” Harry asked.

Draco shook his head while handing Harry one of the glasses.

“It’s just dinner,” he murmured. But Harry noticed he was avoiding his eyes.

“This isn’t just dinner,” Harry said in awe, gazing around the candlelit room. When his eyes landed on Draco again, he noticed how tense his boyfriend was.

“I simply wanted to do something nice. Is that so wrong?” Draco snapped.

“No, no,” Harry said hastily. “It’s just…” He paused, searching for the right words. “Well, romance isn’t exactly your strong suit.”

“Thanks for pointing that out,” Draco muttered, taking a sip of champagne.

“Don’t be sulky. I just don’t know what to do with all of this.”

“Excuse me, you’re not the only one who can make grand gestures.” Angry red spots were splattered all over Draco’s face now. For a second, Harry thought he was blushing.

“Wait, are you trying to outdo me? Is that it?” He tried very hard not to laugh. Draco was obviously serious about this. Always had been when it came to beating Harry in something. The amusement he was trying to hide must have shown on his face, despite his effort. Draco was probably ready to jinx him.

“It’s really sweet,” Harry said. He meant it, but he suspected Draco thought he was making fun of him.

“You know what, forget it.” With a wave of his hand, the music suddenly stopped playing.

“Hey! No,” Harry protested. “This isn’t a competition. You don’t need to-”

“I wasn’t trying to,” Draco muttered. He sounded bitter. “Maybe it’s just as I said. Maybe I was simply trying to do something nice. Or maybe I just wanted to show my stupid boyfriend-” He stopped abruptly and Harry noticed how he had balled his hands into fists.

“What did you want to show me?”

When Draco didn’t answer, Harry let out a sigh and took a step Forward.

“Draco, you know I don’t need any grand gestures. You’re-”

“I swear to Merlin, if you’re going to say I’m all you need, I’m going to hex you.”

Harry tried to look as innocent as possible as he continued.

“Let’s just keep it sweet and simple, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Well, I don’t do sweet and if there’s anything I will definitely never do or be, it’s simple!”

“Ugh, Draco, why do you always have to twist my words?”

“Because you’re a bumbling idiot.”

“ _Your_ bumbling idiot.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Honestly, I must have been out of my mind. Why did I go through the trouble of doing all this,” he gestured around the room. “You clearly don’t need any affirmation of my affection.”

“Oh?” Harry started grinning and tried to imitate Draco’s drawling tone. “So this is an affirmation of your endless affection for me?”

“Ugh, you can be so obnoxious sometimes. I really don’t know what to do with you.”

“Yes, you do,” Harry grinned.

“Look, I just wanted you to know that… you should know… you make me really happy, okay?” Draco made a face, full of disgust. “I know I don’t say it very often, but-”

“You show it often enough,” Harry interrupted him. “You haven’t been worrying about that, have you?”

Hesitantly, Draco shook his head. Harry could tell he wasn’t being honest.

“I know you care. And as much as I appreciate you doing this, I hope you didn’t feel pressured to do this.”

“Relax, Golden Boy, I’m not some damsel in distress.”

Harry snickered as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. He had to admit, he could get used to coming home to this. The candles, the rose petals, it was all kind of cute. Maybe now that they had talked about it, Draco would be more comfortable with these things. Maybe Harry would get more surprises like this in the future. On the other hand…

“This is a one time thing, isn’t it?” Harry murmured into Draco’s hair. Lifting his head, Draco snorted once before pulling Harry into a searing kiss.

“You bet your pretty arse it is!”


	30. Chapter 30

Strawberries

 

“Potter! What— What is that?”

“What is what?”

Draco took a deep breath.

“That! On your lips. They’re so… shiny.” He realised he sounded scandalised, but he just couldn’t help it. Potter’s lips, usually looking too inviting as it was, were even more distracting now.

“It’s lip balm. Keep your pants on, Malfoy,” he said, a mischievous grin on his face. That bastard!

“Since when are you wearing lip balm?”

“Since now,” Potter shrugged. “Why, do you have a problem with that?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, and gave Draco an expectant look.

Instead of giving him an answer, Draco could only stare at those luscious lips. They had a pinkish tinge now, and Draco wanted nothing more than to step closer and examine them from up close.

“Malfoy?” Potter said, waving a hand in front of him. Draco’s eyes snapped up, heat blooming on his cheeks. Why did he have to run into Potter in Diagon Alley? Wasn’t it enough they practically worked together at the Ministry?

“Malfoy, stop staring at me. You’re creeping me out!”

“What? Oh, I— I didn’t, um—”

Something suddenly changed in Potter’s expression, making Draco shiver. His eyes twinkled and his lips, his delicious lips, slowly stretched into a smile.

“Ooooh,” he said, and suddenly took several steps forward. Draco backed away, but startled when his back suddenly hit a wall.

“What— What are you doing, Potter?” he stuttered.

“Dunno. What do you want me to do?”

Draco blinked, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry.

“I— I—” He gulped as Potter leaned closer and put a hand on the wall, right beside Draco’s ear.

“Yes?”

Draco hated the way Potter made him incoherent with a mere glance, let alone standing so close to him. It probably hadn’t gone unnoticed how Draco usually ogled him, whenever they crossed paths at the Ministry, even if Potter was the most dense prat on this planet. 

“Malfoy?”

“Huh?”

Potter laughed, which made Draco scowl.

“Get away from me, Potter,” he spat.

“Are you sure about that?”

Something in Potter’s voice was off. It was much lower than usual. It sounded very sensual. It made Draco’s head spin.

“If you really want me to leave…” Potter brought his free hand up to Draco’s face, and for a second, Draco thought he was going to touch him. But his fingers hovered inches away from his jaw, before he dropped his hand again. Draco almost felt disappointed. “But if you don’t want me to leave…”

Draco gasped as Potter leaned forward.

“Not here, are you crazy?” he hissed, looking around to check if anyone was watching them.

“Not here?” Potter said, grinning. “So I just have to take you somewhere else?”

“What?”

Draco almost squealed when Potter suddenly grabbed his hand and started walking.

“Potter, what are you doing?”

Draco tried to hide his face behind his hand, fearing somebody might recognize him. He was practically holding hands with Potter; if that wasn’t front page news, he didn’t know what was. He tried to get his hand out of Potter’s grip when he realized where the prat was taking him.

“Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes? What, you want to buy a Pygmy Puff?”

Potter winked, the prat _winked_ at him, before he dragged Draco inside.

“Hey, Harry, I didn’t know you— Harry? What’s going— What are you doing with Malfoy? Harry? Harry?”

“Sorry, Ron, I’m busy right now. Talk to you later!”

Weasley stared after them, looking like he just saw a ghost.

Potter finally stopped walking when they entered the storage room, and closed the door behind them.

“So,” he said, invading Draco’s personal space again. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Potter’s eyes darted down to his mouth, leaving Draco breathless.

“You know, I thought it was stupid when my assistant gave me this,” Potter said, holding up a chapstick. “But…”

“But?” Draco said, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“But your reaction to it is very interesting.” Potter was doing it again, lowering his voice and practically becoming irresistable. Draco felt dizzy, so dizzy. Being in the same room with Potter was hard enough, but being in the same room with a Potter who was being seductive… Merlin’s pants!

“Your lips have no right to be so shiny,” Draco said stupidly. His voice was barely a whisper, but still, his voice was quivering.

“Well, you have no right to be so bloody attractive all the time,” Potter retorted, and leaned closer.

Draco’s eyes widened, and for a second, he wasn’t sure if he had heard him correctly.

“So,” Potter said, swiftly pressing his lips together, “you want to know what the chapstick tastes like?”

If Draco hadn’t been so overwhelmed, he would have been furious at himself for squeaking like a little child.

“Is that a yes?” Potter grinned.

Draco scowled at him, but before he could come up with a proper insult, Potter was touching his cheek, making him feel hot all over. Their lips were inches apart and Draco almost started trembling.

“It probably doesn’t taste as good as it looks,” he whispered, mesmerised.

“If you don’t try it, you’ll never—”

Draco leaned forward, and closed his eyes. Potter’s lips were extremely soft, and they moved deliciously against Draco’s. Potter snaked his other arm around his hip, making Draco gasp. Potter didn’t lose any time to take advantage of that. As he deepened the kiss, Draco grabbed his upper arms, and sucked Potter’s bottom lip into his mouth.

Strawberries. He tasted like strawberries. Well, artificial strawberries. Draco was pretty sure he’d always associate it with Potter from now on. 

He never really cared much for strawberries. But this, this was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.


	31. Chapter 31

Whether you like it or not

 

“I’m freezing. This was a stupid idea.”

Harry shakes his head, a fond smile plastered on his face. Draco snuggles into his side, grabbing at Harry’s jumper as if his life depended on it.

“How long do you want us to stay here?” he sniffs.

“I think it’s nice,” Harry murmurs. He takes a deep breath, relishing the smell of the chilled spring night. “I like watching the stars with you.”

Draco grumbles something under his breath which Harry doesn’t quite catch, but it’s pretty clear Draco seems to be disagreeing with him. And yet, he’s here, in Harry’s arms. Draco might complain a lot, but Harry knows, deep down, Draco feels the same.

He tilts his head and presses his cheek against the top of Draco’s head.

“You know, I’m glad we found each other after the war.”

“Ugh, you’re not getting sentimental, are you?”

Harry sighs, but he can’t suppress a snigger. “I’m just saying… I wouldn’t be who I am today without you.”

“Oh Merlin,” Draco groans. Before he can say anything else, Harry touches his cheek. Draco looks up, his eyes wide and unguarded.

“I love you,” Harry whispers.

“So you keep saying,” Draco smirks. Harry leans down, until their lips brush. He lives for these tender moments. He never thought he’d have them, after he realised who his heart truly belonged to. Discovering Draco can be _very_ tender was such a surprise. A marvellous one.

Harry lets his head fall back onto the blanket and starts smiling like an idiot when he feels the weight of Draco’s head on his chest.

“You know,” Draco says, his voice full of amusement, “if you ever feel like making a list about the things you love most about me, don’t let me stop you.”

Harry wraps his arms around Draco as they both start shaking from Harry’s uncontrollable laughter.

“You’re such a git!” He kisses Draco’s hair, pulling him close. “But you’re my git and that’s just one of the things I love about you.”

Draco peeks up at him, grinning.

“Keep going.”

“Believe me,” Harry laughs, “I’ll keep going for the rest of our lives, whether you like it or not.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this post](https://delightfuloverkill.tumblr.com/post/175879554564/antique-moonglade-just-shower-thoughts)

Take it or leave it

 

_Sometime in 8th year…_

 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Potter?”

“Umm… leaving the library?”

“I don’t think so.”

Potter lets out a sigh, one that’s supposed to let the other person know just how annoyed you are.

“Give me the book,” Draco demands, holding out his hand expectantly.

“Excuse me?”

“Give me that book,” Draco growls. Potter looks completely unimpressed. “Are you deaf?”

“I just borrowed it,” Potter says. “Wait until it’s your turn.”

“No,” Draco says defiantly. “I need it now.”

“Need?” Potter echoes with a raised eyebrow.

Shit. “I want it now,” Draco corrects.

“Ask Madam Pince for another copy,” Potter says dismissively. He makes a move to walk around Draco, but Draco blocks his way once more.

“It’s the only copy,” Draco snarls.

Potter gives him a speculative glance.

Draco grits his teeth, his eyes narrowed into slits. “This,” he takes a threatening step forward, “happens to be my favourite book.”

“‘The Tales of Beedle the Bard’ is your favourite book?” Potter asks sceptically. “It’s a children’s book.”

“You’re the one who just borrowed it,” Draco points out.

“Malfoy, I don’t have time for this. I’ll bring it back tomorrow. You can have it then.”

“No.”

“Malfoy!”

“No!”

“Why are you so obsessed with this book?”

“I—I just—” He hesitates, averting his eyes. He can’t possibly tell Potter how anxious he’s feeling right now, how his chest tightens with every breath and the only thing that’s going to calm him down is diving into the stories his mother used to read to him as a child.

“Is it really that important to you?” Potter says quietly.

Draco’s eyes snap back to his. There’s much more sympathy there than Draco is comfortable with. But there’s also a hint of hesitation.

“It is important,” Draco admits grudgingly.

“Why?”

Draco groans. He should have known Potter wouldn’t make this easy.

“None of your business.”

“Hey, you’re the one who’s begging—”

“I’m not begging,” Draco snarls. “You know what, keep the damn book. I don’t care!” Fuming, he stomps out of the library and back to the common room. As soon as he enters, however, he immediately feels overwhelmed. The room feels stifling. There are too many people in here. He quickly darts up the stairs to his dorm room and throws himself on the bed. He tries to block out any unbidden thoughts as he stares at the ceiling, waiting for nighttime to come. For the nightmares to come.

A determined knock on the door startles him into a sitting position. Potter bursts into the room without waiting for an answer.

“Fuck you, Malfoy,” he barks and tosses something at him. It’s ‘The Tales of Beedle the Bard’ Draco realises. He stares at Potter, wide-eyed, confusion washing over him. “Thanks for making me feel guilty,” Potter snaps. “I was going to—I haven’t been—I thought it might help—Ugh, but I think you need it more than me.”

Draco blinks at him in astonishment. “You too?” he simply asks. He’s too surprised to think about what he’s just admitted to Potter.

Potter stills and eyes him intently. He gives a tiny nod as though he doesn’t really want Draco to see it.

Draco looks down at the book in his hands. He already feels calmer, a little bit more in control. He hears Potter clear his throat and tears his eyes away from the book reluctantly. Why is he still here?

“How would you feel about a compromise?” Potter proposes quietly.

“Compromise?” Draco echoes sceptically.

“Yeah. I thought—I thought we could… I don’t know, share it?”

“How would we do that?” Draco retorts, already feeling frustrated. He just wants to be alone. Well, that’s not completely true. But being around other people is just so exhausting.

“We could read it together?”

Draco snorts. “No way, Potter. You’re such a slow reader.”

“I’m not!”

“You are.”

Potter slams the door shut, and for a second, Draco thinks he’s going to attack him. Before he knows what’s happening, Potter is sitting beside him, cross-legged and his arms firmly folded on his chest. “I’m not a slow reader,” he insists. “But if you’re going to be such a pain in the arse about it, then I guess you can read it to me.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s my compromise. Take it or leave it.”

Draco stares at him incredulously. He notices the crease between Potter’s eyebrows and knows he has no other choice. There’s no arguing with Potter with that stubborn crease in place.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Potter squirm and something weird flickering across his face.

“I need this as much as you do,” Potter mumbles. It takes Draco by surprise. He didn’t expect Potter to admit it. Is it really that bad?

After another moment of hesitation, he quietly opens the book. “There was once a kindly old wizard—” He stops when Potter’s head whips around. “Stop staring, Potter. I thought this was what you wanted.” Draco can tell he’s biting the inside of his cheek. He doesn’t say anything but simply nods and wriggles into a more comfortable position. Draco sighs, mentally shaking his head. “There was once a kindly old wizard who used his magic generously and wisely for the benefit of his neighbours…”

* * *

Draco wakes with a start and blinks in the darkness, disoriented. It takes him a moment to realise he’s in his room, in his bed. The copy of ‘The Tales of Beedle the Bard’ is still in his hands. He tries to straighten himself but immediately goes rigid. He looks down, his eyes slowly focusing in the darkness. His pulse quickens inadvertently when he sees a mop of black hair resting in his lap. When did that happen? Oh, yeah, he noticed Potter edging closer while he was reading ‘The Fountain of Fair Fortune’. By the time they reached ‘Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump’, their shoulders were touching. And at some point, Potter’s head plopped down on Draco’s shoulder. Draco stopped reading, scolding his heart for nearly jumping out his chest.

“Don’t stop,” Potter said sleepily. Draco tried to sneak a peek at him. His eyes were closed. “I’ve never had anybody read me bedtime stories before.”

“Are you serious?” Draco said with a frown.

He still can’t believe it. He stares at Potter’s head, at his shoulders rising and falling evenly as his words echo in his mind. Maybe reading to Potter wasn’t so embarrassing after all. And if Potter really was talking about needing ‘Beedle the Bard’ to keep the nightmares away, it seems to have worked. He looks peaceful at least. Huh. Draco realises he didn’t have any dreams either. Not the worst outcome, he thinks with a mental shrug. He lets his head fall back against the headboard and closes his eyes. Still, it’s a little weird to have Harry Potter sleeping in his lap. But… it’s not horrible. It’s actually… quite okay. Not that he’d ever admit that, he thinks, before he drifts off to sleep again, not even realising that his fingers are twisted around soft, black hair.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RyrYgCvxBUg)

Now that I see you

 

He catches his eye across the hall and pauses. Something is different. There’s no venom, no glee, no… anything. He looks deflated, resigned, as though just sitting there is too much of an effort.

He didn’t know if he’d come back. The halls that once felt so secure are now haunted by the residue of the battle, the constant reminder of their losses. He dreams about it. Every night. Fellow classmates sinking to the ground left and right, the snake-like face twisted in a scornful sneer, the fire that nearly killed them both.

Dragging himself out of bed gets harder every day. It just seems so… pointless.

But then he catches his eye again and it’s like the whole world around them evaporates until it’s just the two of them. He knows, doesn’t he? He understands. He’s suffering, too.

But too much has been said and done. He can’t just ignore everything that went down between them in the last seven years. There’s still too much anger, too much humiliation… too much regret.

But more than once he feels his eyes on him while they’re sitting in their newly shared common room. He clutches his quill, forces himself to keep his eyes on the parchment… and fails. Their eyes connect and it’s as though a million unspoken things are laid bare between them.

He breaks the moment first, averting his eyes, too overwhelmed by all the emotions battling in his chest.

Someone’s walking past him, leaving the common room. It’s him. His muscles clench. He shouldn’t go after him. He doesn’t even know what to say. But it’s like an invisible force is pulling him out of his chair.

He spots him immediately. He’s standing with his back against the wall, just outside the common room. His face is unreadable. But then he opens his mouth and murmurs an apology. It’s uncomfortable. It’s awkward. He doesn’t look like he’s expecting a reply, but he mumbles one anyway. He apologises as well.

The teachers keep bringing up what happened, encourage everyone to talk about it. It only makes him want to scream. His hands are still balled into fists as he leaves the classroom. Then, he feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s brief, a fleeting gesture, but his shoulder still feels warm hours later, his skin still tingling from his touch.

He sees him in the library, watches him as he stares at one page for almost an hour. He deliberates leaving him alone but he just can’t help himself. He sits down beside him, takes his book and starts reading it to him.

He wanders the corridors at night, desperately trying to distract himself. It’s not working. Then he finds him, sitting on the stairs leading to the Entrance Hall. He doesn’t even seem surprised when he sits down next to him. Everything is quiet. Until he hears a sob beside him. He’s covering his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. He hesitates, only for a moment, before he shifts closer and carefully puts an arm around him. There are tears forming in his eyes as well and for once, he’s not ashamed of them.

He has to hide his smile when he hears him call out his name and falls into step beside him on the way to the next class. Their hands brush against each other and neither of them shies away from the touch. He is a little surprised, however, when they walk around the lake and warm fingers curl around his. Not by accident.

He tries to mask his uncertainty with a frown as he moves closer to him on the sofa in the common room. Heat blooms on his cheeks as his fingers make contact with warm skin. Even more so when a blanket is thrown over his legs and his hand is delicately caressed beneath it.

He still feels lonely at night, helpless and forlorn. But there’s something new, slowly blossoming inside him. It gives him hope.

He catches his eye across the hall and smiles. Yes, something is different.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm curious - did you read that in Harry's or Draco's perspective? ;)


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this amazing piece of art](https://nedjemmm.tumblr.com/post/176152396437/i-want-winter-so-much) (with the permission of the artist :) Check out their stuff, it's soooooo good! ❤️️)

“What did you just say to me?” **  
**

Harry just grins at him.

“What did you just say to me? I dare you to repeat it.” He shivers, either from the cold or from hardly being able to contain his anger. Harry isn’t sure.

“I said maybe you should exchange that green and silver scarf for a Hufflepuff one.”

“And why the hell would I do that?”

Harry’s grin widens. “I saw you earlier, with that little girl.”

Something flickers across Malfoy’s face. Harry’s caught him, but he’s trying to act nonchalant.

“What girl?”

“The girl you were comforting. I heard what you said to her. I thought that was…nice.”

“And what makes you think I give a damn about what you think?” Malfoy spits.

“Oh, so this is what you not caring looks like?” Harry sniggers.

Malfoy narrows his eyes and steps closer. If he thinks Harry is intimidated by the two inches he’s taller than him, he thought wrong.

“What are you trying to imply here?” Malfoy sneers. “Are you calling me a wimp?”

“Your words, not mine,” Harry laughs. “I just had no idea you were so in touch with your emotional side.”

Malfoy’s rosy cheeks turn crimson. But he doesn’t seem embarrassed or flustered, he seems livid. He grabs Harry by his scarf and pulls him forward until he’s inches away from his face.

“I’ll show you just how much I’m in touch with my emotional side,” he growls.

“Oh yeah?” Harry says challengingly. He raises his chin. “I bet you’re too much of a coward.”

“Who are you calling a coward?” Malfoy barks.

“I bet you don’t have the balls to—to—”

“To what?”

Harry swallows, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. And vulnerable. It’s a challenge. Malfoy won’t know about his feelings. Right? Right. He’ll be too angry anway.

Harry raises his chin even higher and squares his shoulders. “I bet you’re too much of a coward to kiss me.”

For a tiny fraction of a second, Malfoy looks shocked. But then he snorts, tightening his grip on Harry’s scarf.

“You’re out of your mind, Potter.”

“So you are a coward.”

“Shut up.” Malfoy’s eyes bore into his as though he’s searching for something. “You’re the bloody Gryffindor here. You do it if you want to so badly.”

“What? I didn’t say—Fuck you!”

“Who’s the coward now?”

Before Malfoy can say anything else, Harry mimics him, grabs the bloody prat by his scarf and yanks him forward. He can’t help but let out a little gasp when he feels Malfoy’s lips pressed against his own. For a moment, they’re both completely motionless. Until Harry feels Malfoy’s lips curl into a smirk.

“Is that all you can do?” he mumbles against Harry’s mouth.

Harry scowls at him and immediately lets go of his scarf; instead, he buries his hands and Malfoy’s hair and pulls him closer. His heart jumps when Malfoy wraps his arms around him and presses his hands against the small of Harry’s back. Oh, that pompous git! He won’t outdo Harry. Not a chance.

Harry opens his mouth and Malfoy loses no time in slipping his tongue inside. Harry pushes back with his own, releasing an enormous swarm of butterflies inside his stomach. More than once, their teeth clash against each other; it only encourages Harry to yank harder at Malfoy’s hair, to brush his tongue more firmly against Malfoy’s, to step closer so there’s absolutely no room left between them.

Malfoy grunts when Harry softly bites his bottom lip and smiles. He returns the favour, leaving Harry breathless and shivering.

He has no idea how long they’re standing there, practically attacking each other’s face, but he knows he could go for hours. Much too soon, Malfoy steps back; his cheeks are flushed and his lips swollen. He gives Harry a strange look, one he can’t place, before his brows are furrowed in a nasty scowl.

“I hate you,” he sneers.

“I hate you more,” Harry shoots back. He hesitates for a moment and searches Malfoy’s face for anything other than repugnance. Maybe he’s imagining it, but he thinks he sees it in his eyes, in the twitch of his mouth.

Malfoy ruins the moment with a rude hand gesture before he stomps off towards the castle.

Harry looks after him, his lips still tingling, and wonders how soon would be too soon to pick another fight with Malfoy.


End file.
